/ . ? Z3. 


LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hamill  Missionary  Fund. 


Division^^Ju)...^.  1.  0 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/charmofmiddlekin00mars_0 


THE  CHARM  OF 
THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“A,  Lord!”  thought  I,  “that  madest  us, 

Yet  saw  I never  swich  noblesse 
Of  ymages,  ne  swich  richesse,  . . . 

But  not  woot  I who  dide  hem  wirche, 

Ner  wher  I am,  ne  in  what  contree. 

But  now  wol  I go  out  and  see. 

Right  at  the  wyket,  yif  I can 
See  o-wher  any  steryng  man. 

That  may  me  telle  wher  I am.” 

Chaucer’s  House  of  Fame. 


I’ACiOD.V  IN  WESTERN  lUM-S, 
J'routiiipioce 


r EKING 





■K"l|  I : .■'^1  Vfi  f-p 

.n!ral!.j|liiHhmiwiii!l'!i:ijll'aui!..^:i:iiBalil!!l!llB'«^ 


THE  CHARM 

OF  THE 

MIDDLE  KINGDOM 

BV  / 

JAMES  REID  MARSH 


A 

A 

,j!{  A 
!'i  A 


A 

A 

♦ 

1 

A 

|.  . ^ 

'■  J * 

k 

* 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

19  2 2 


A||n||u||jli:iu 


|iiuiiiiiuiiiiiimiiiiiinniHniiinuiuiniiin:i 


Copyright,  1922, 

By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


All  rights  reserved 
Published  September,  1912 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


TO 

Jeannette  Phillips  Gibbs 

AND 

Arthur  Hamilton  Gibbs 

WITHOUT  WHOSE  FRIENDLY  COUNSEL  AND  ENCOURAGEMENT 
THIS  BOOK  WOULD  PROBABLY  NOT  HAVE  BEEN  UNDERTAKEN. 


I 


FOREWORD 


The  lady  was  wearing  a scarlet  skirt  with  a 
very  long  coat  of  the  same  material  when  the 
boy  first  saw  her.  She  was  standing  on  the 
brink  of  the  Grand  Canon,  watching  the  sun 
splash  the  stone  battleship  with  every  con- 
ceivable color,  but  mostly  red,  a hue  only  less 
brilliant  than  her  skirt.  The  boy  was  on  the 
brink  of  the  Canon,  too.  He  was  prone  on 
his  stomach,  dipping  his  head  into  nearly  im- 
measurable depths,  for  he  had  just  loosened  a 
rock  from  the  shelving  where  he  lay,  and  w^as 
watching  it  fall,  and  afterwards,  when  it  had 
merged  with  the  reddish  brown  of  the  land- 
scape, listening  for  its  impingement  on  the 
cliffs  below\ 

Finally,  after  his  experiment,  for  it  was  an 
experiment  and  reminiscent  of  the  days  when 
he  had  wrestled  with  the  vagaries  of  falling 
bodies,  the  boy  stood  up,  his  face  aglow  with  ap- 
preciation of  the  rich  panorama  that  stretched 
before  him.  He  was  standing  perilously  near 
the  edge  of  the  world,  for  that  was  what 
it  amounted  to.  He  could  not  have  taken  a 

vii 


FOREWORD 


fraction  of  a step  without  being  savagely 
hurtled  into  space.  And  this  it  was  that 
constrained  the  lady  to  speak  to  him.  She 
had  been  waiting  some  moments,  as  if  for  him 
to  turn  of  his  own  accord,  for  she  was  afraid  of 
startling  him  with  a word. 

Just  as  the  boy  turned  she  said,  “The  days 
of  fairies  are  past,  you  know.  It  has  happened 
before, — shelves  crumbling  away,  I mean.  If 
you  want  to  prolong  your  journey,  you  had 
better  keep  away  from  the  edge  of  things.” 
The  boy  turned  quickly,  startled  at  the 
sound  of  her  voice,  for  he  had  had  no  intima- 
tion of  her  coming.  He  reddened  under  the 
directness  of  her  gaze  and  after  what  seemed 
to  him  an  infinity  of  silence  answered,  “I 
suppose  it  was  foolish  of  me.  And  as  for  my 
journey,  that  has  scarcely  begun.” 

“Then  you  are  going  far?” 

“Just  underneath,”  he  replied.  And  then 
he  added,  as  if  in  extenuation  of  what  he 
deemed  a cryptic  remark,  “China.  I started 
digging  for  it  once,  you  know.” 

Of  course  she  did  not  know,  but  somehow  he 
had  felt  immediately  familiar  with  the  lady. 
The  boy  could  not  understand  why  he  should 
have  felt  this  way;  although  the  lady  did. 
She  had  long  cultivated  the  art  of  being 
familiar. 

viii 


FOREWORD 


“And  you  have  decided  to  go  round  in- 
stead,” she  interpolated  with  a winning 
smile. 

“Yes,”  he  answered.  “You  see  a chum  and 
I were  only  seven  years  old  when  we  commenced 
digging,  and  I don’t  suppose  we  should  have 
gotten  farther  down  than  a mile  by  now.  The 
pit  caved  in  on  us  one  day,  and  that  was  the 
end  of  it.  And  now  I am  actually  going  there! 
It  seems  incredible.  ” 

“Nor  did  I ever  expect  to,”  she  countered, 
placing  the  top  of  her  swagger  stick  between 
her  pretty  red  lips  and  looking  at  him  de- 
murely, with  only  the  glimmer  of  a smile. 

“Then  you  have  been  to  China!”  the  boy 
exclaimed  with  a kind  of  childish  surprise. 

“Ummm,”  the  lady  replied,  enjoying  his 
consternation  with  every  ounce  of  her  feminine 
subtlety.  “And  I’m  on  my  way  back,  too.” 

“Then  we  shall  travel  together,”  the  boy 
burst  out  with  a frankness  and  spontaneity 
that  were  especially  pleasing  to  the  lady  in 
scarlet. 

“That  depends,”  she  said,  thrusting  the 
swagger  stick  once  more  between  her  pretty 
red  lips.  “What  boat  are  you  taking.^  Do 
you  sail  from  Frisco.^” 

“Yes,  Frisco,”  he  quickly  replied,  as  if  for 
that  reason  it  must  be  by  the  identical  steamer. 


IX 


FOREWORD 


“And  the  ship?”  she  asked,  not  a little 
impatiently. 

"'Persia  Maru,’'  he  replied,  with  his  eyes 
fastened  on  hers.  He  must  have  been  trying 
to  divine  the  truth  by  the  sober  light  that 
shone  from  them.  Had  he  been  a man  and 
experienced  in  the  ways  of  women  he  could 
have  accomplished  his  task.  It  was  scarcely 
necessary  that  the  lady  should  speak.  For 
the  answer  was  written  plainly  on  her  face. 
In  the  end  she  laughed  at  the  boy’s  confusion 
and  said,  “What  wonderful  luck!” 

“You  have  never  been  away  from  home 
before,”  she  continued,  rather  than  asked. 

“Oh,  I have  been  on  ships  making  voyages 
into  the  Caribbean,”  he  answered  carelessly. 
It  was  evident  that  he  wanted  to  impress  her, 
if  he  could,  with  his  worldliness.  But  from  the 
nature  of  her  reply  it  was  equally  evident  that 
he  had  failed  to  accomplish  this  very  youngish 
desire. 

“I  see  I’ll  have  to  take  you  in  hand,”  she 
said.  “You  can’t  go  out  there  and  break  your 
legs  like  a colt  that’s  put  too  early  to  pasture. 
Do  you  greatly  mind  if  I try?  I think  I’ll 
succeed.  If  there’s  a single  word  that  comes 
to  my  mind  more  forcefully  than  any  other  it 
is  tolerance.  Be  sure  you  understand  before 
you  condemn.  Don’t  build  your  shell  until 


FOREWORD 


you  are  sure  what  you  want  it  to  be.  The 
average  man  builds  his  about  thirty.  Most 
women’s  are  built  by  nature.  So  there  you 
are.  I think  we  had  better  be  getting  back  to 
the  train.  It  leaves  within  the  hour.  ” 

The  boy  had  an  impulse  to  thank  the  lady 
for  all  she  had  said  to  him,  but  when  he 
considered  that  perhaps  she  had  a lot  more  to 
say,  and  that  there  was  to  be  a sufficiency  of 
time  permitted  them  on  the  ocean  journey,  he 
only  acquiesced.  They  walked  side  by  side, 
hardly  venturing  to  speak  until  they  reached  the 
veranda,  wdien  she  turned  to  him,  put  out  her 
hand,  almost  impulsively,  or  so  it  seemed  to  the 
boy,  and  said,  “This  has  been  an  extremely 
pleasant  afternoon.  You  see,  I am  a sports- 
woman and  have  a reputation  for  picking  win- 
ners. Of  course,  even  wins  may  be  flukes,  and 
I have  learned  not  to  stake  my  last  penny  on 
anything,  no,  not  even  on  character.  But  that 
is  neither  here  nor  there.  I’ll  see  you  on  the 
train.  Perhaps  it’s  not  being  worth  your 
while.  Yes?  Au  revoir,  then.  ” 

The  boy  saw  the  lady  on  the  train,  but 
the  talks  they  had  there  were  not  nearly  so 
intimate  as  those  that  came  later  on  the 
ship. 

Of  course,  there  were  a multitude  of  subjects 
on  which  the  lady  could  only  touch  cursorily. 


XI 


FOREWORD 


After  all,  one  can’t,  to  use  her  very  words, 
anticipate  experience. 

“I  simply  want  you  to  have  a healthy 
attitude  of  mind,”  she  would  say.  “You 
remember  the  old  Latin  proverb,  ‘ Sequi  na- 
turam’  But  how  few  realize  what  an  extremely 
difficult  art  it  is  to  follow  nature,  as  if  one 
were  natural  by  instinct!  The  animals  may 
be,  and  man  undoubtedly  once  was,  but  the 
farther  he  gets  away  from  the  ones  who  lived 
in  trees  the  farther  he  gets  from  the  truth  of 
the  flesh,  which,  after  all,  is  not  the  truth  of 
the  spirit.  They  are  separate,  don’t  you  see. 
The  reason  animals  make  such  a success  of 
life  is  because  they  haven’t  spirits.  They 
can’t  mix  their  drinks,  so  to  speak,  and  get 
intoxicated  with  themselves.  But  ever  since 
the  garden  of  Eden  man  has  been  mixing  his 
drinks  and  woman’s  too,  and  a sorry  mess  he 
has  made  of  them!  The  summum  honum  of 
all  my  advice  becomes,  don’t  mix  your  drinks. 
You  don’t  understand,  do  you.^  But  you  will 
some  day.  Never  fear,  you  will.  ” 

The  steamer  had  dropped  anchor  off  Woo- 
sung,  which  is  the  place  where  the  Yangtze 
widens  one  of  its  mouths  before  embrowning 
the  sea.  It  was  in  the  smaller  hours  of  the 
morning  and  a big  tender  came  down  the  river 
to  take  those  disembarking  at  Shanghai  to  the 

xii 


FOREWORD 


jetty.  The  boy  wanted  to  bid  the  lady  good- 
by,  but  in  the  confusion  of  taking  off  baggage 
he  had  completely  lost  trace  of  her. 

He  distinctly  remembers  standing  near  the 
after  hatch  of  the  tender  watching  the  multi- 
tudinous lights  of  the  liner  blur  into  a nearly 
indistinguishable  whole.  Then  he  heard  a big 
man  grunt  contemptuously.  He  looked  down 
into  the  hatch,  and  there  on  a pile  of  tumbled 
mattresses  he  saw  the  lady  in  scarlet  peacefully 
sleeping.  There  seemed  to  be  no  one  else 
about,  and  unquestionably  she  had  gotten 
there  alone.  But  the  boy  cannot  help  recalling 
how  he  resented  the  contemptuous  grunt  of 
the  big  man  near  the  hatch.  For  the  lady  had 
been  true  blue  to  him,  and  he  will  always 
remember  her  as  she  lay  there,  her  long  scarlet 
cloak  gathered  snugly  about  her  form,  her 
scarlet  skirt,  fringed  with  a brownish  fur,  just 
showing  beneath  the  cloak,  and  her  head  bare, 
with  the  brown  tresses  flowing  about  her  brow 
as  they  did  that  day  near  the  edge  of  the 
world. 

In  another  instant  she  was  gone,  and  the 
land  of  dreams  had  become  a land  of  reality. 
If  the  boy  has  acquired  any  understanding  of 
the  world  at  all,  he  owes  it  in  no  little  part  to 
the  lady  in  scarlet,  and  though  she  must,  by 
the  commonest  courtesy,  be  forever  nameless, 

xiii 


FOREWORD 


he  hopes  that  this  will  come  to  her  hand,  and 
that  she  will  feel  that  life  has  not  been  so 
utterly  in  vain  as  she  might  otherwise  be 
tempted  to  believe. 


XIV 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Pagoda  in  Western  Hills,  Peking  . . . Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Bund  and  consulates  at  Shanghai 6 

Mr.  Ludwig  traveling  de  luxe 6 

Pailow  for  Chinese  woman  who  never  remarried  12 

Sikli  Policeman 12 

A Lama  temple 22 

Camel’s  back  bridge  28 

Walled-in  homes  and  street 28 

A city  blacksmith 36 

A street  barber 36 

Templed  roofs 46 

Terraced  hills  near  T’ang  Kang  Tzu 54 

Farmer  with  odd  plow-mates 54 

Bronze  incense  burner  at  Lama  temple  ....  62 

Emperors’  tombs,  Moukden 70 

Coffin  borne  through  street  74 

Buddhist  priests  intoning  for  the  dead  ....  74 

An  abandoned  temple  at  Moukden 86 

Whirling  de\dls 86 

The  girl  outside  the  temple  94 

“Easy  Street,’’  Tientsin 98 

Temple  of  Confucius 98 

River  scene,  Tientsin 104 

Criminals  on  the  way  to  be  shot 104 

Market  place  with  shrine 120 

A student,  his  vafe  and  his  aunt 120 

Temple  of  Heaven  approach 126 


XV 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Facing  page 

The  marble  boat 126 

Porcelain  pailow  near  the  Summer  Palace  . .130 

Looking  toward  Peking  from  the  Western  Hills  . . 130 

Monument  to  Boxer  victims,  Russian  Park,  Tientsin  136 
Railway  piercing  the  Great  Wall  at  Shanhaikwan  . 142 

A river  pirate  at  home 150 

Ch’ien  Men  Gate,  Peking 158 

In  the  heart  of  the  Western  Hills 158 

Cleopatra’s  Needles 164 

In  the  Baie  d’ Along 164 

The  country  of  T’ai  Nam 172 

A block  of  golden  fruit 172 

A ruin  left  by  the  Boxers 182 

A farm  house  in  the  Mengtsz  Valley 182 

Templed  battlements  of  tombs 186 

The  author  in  his  garden 186 

Neighbors  from  India 194 

My  dappled  stallion  who  once  was  wild  ....  194 

A group  of  little  folk 204 

A Tibetan  prayer  wheel  204 

Chinese  landscape  from  a mountain  top  ....  214 

Near  the  Valley  of  Fragrant  Springs 220 

Shrine  in  the  Valley  of  Fragrant  Springs  ....  220 

Jack  John.son  and  Chief  Geronimo 234 

In  a Mengtsz  garden 234 

Cloarec,  Lena,  and  the  author,  with  Mimi,  Cloarec’s 

dog 242 


For  many  of  the  excellent  photographs  reproduced  in 
this  volume  the  author  is  indebted  to  his  friend  of  China 
days,  Albert  P.  Ludwig,  of  St.  Anthony,  Idaho. 


X\T 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE 
MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE 
MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


CHAPTER  I 

For  seven  centuries  the  charm  and  glory  of 
the  Middle  Kingdom  have  dripped  out  of  the 
eastern  world  like  the  light  of  early  stars  from 
the  vaulted  blue  at  night.  Lily  feet,  almond 
eyes  and  sinuous  black  hair,  with  shimmering 
embroidered  silks  somewhere  between,  have 
stolen  away  and  benumbed  countless  human 
hearts,  as  the  poppy’s  juice  is  said  to  steal 
away  and  benumb  the  faculties  of  the  brain. 
I,  like  so  many  others,  have  felt,  “Romance 
is  dead.”  And  I have  lived  to  chase  it  over 
the  rim  of  the  world,  across  the  widest  sea, 
imtil  it  stood  and  delivered. 

The  big  steamer  coasts  along  Japan,  touch- 
ing at  the  three  principal  ports.  But  somehow 
one  fails  to  be  impressed,  though  one  is  va- 
riously pleased,  to  be  sure.  Not  until  he  is 
many  hours  out  of  Nagasaki  does  the  traveler 

3 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


begin  to  sense  something  akin  to  impending 
romance.  As  the  ship  sweeps  over  the  conti- 
nental shelf  of  the  most  prolific  country  on 
earth  he  notices  that  the  sea  has  taken  on  a 
soberer  hue.  Whereas  before  the  waters  were 
active,  flashing  green  and  white,  with  the 
waves  curling  over  one  another  with  a certain 
eternal  resiliency,  now  they  have  become  a 
deep  brownish  yellow,  almost  muddy.  It 
seems  that  the  great  ship  must  momently  dig 
her  nose  into  the  soft  earth  and  be  made  a 
prisoner  by  this  plastic  moving  mass. 

But  the  steel  prow  cuts  vigorously  on, 
though  the  waters  are  still,  and  when  the 
traveler  goes  to  the  stern  and  looks  into  the 
wake,  instead  of  beholding  a frothy  nectar 
whirling  away  to  the  sky  he  sees  a heavy 
liquid  angrily  churning  like  a gigantic  caldron 
of  boiling  mud.  For  China  has  not  w’aited, 
like  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  for  the  world  to 
come  to  her.  China  runs  sixty  miles  out  to  sea 
to  utter  her  sober  warning.  And  the  traveler 
leaning  over  the  rail  must  heed  it,  though  he 
have  not  a spark  of  youth  in  his  blood.  The 
great  Yellow  Sea  descends  on  him  like  a 
prelude  to  an  Oriental  night,  and  he  shudders, 
while  his  nerves  tingle  with  the  lust  for  things 
untried,  for  the  subterranean  places  of  the 
earth,  where  life  is  inverted,  and  where  he 

4 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


can  gaze  on  the  primeval  j)assions  of  the 
world. 

By  and  by  a junk  more  daring  than  the 
others  flashes  into  view.  She  flits  dangerously 
near  the  course  of  her  iron  sister  out  of  the 
east.  The  captain  of  the  big  ship  is  mani- 
festly disturbed.  There  is  a bawling  of  orders 
cut  short  by  the  deafening  roar  of  the  sirens. 
But  the  junk  bobs  out  of  reach  as  the  modern 
leviathan  plows  her  unchecked  course.  The 
traveler  peers  eagerly  down  into  the  faces  of 
the  little  crew.  He  scans  them  as  he  would 
the  pietures  in  a fabled  story  book. 

There  is  a rat-like  running  to  and  fro,  a 
weird,  unmusical,  and  yet  not  utterly  un- 
musical chant,  that  by  a stretch  of  fancy 
might  be  mistaken  for  a language,  a hasty 
change  of  the  course,  while  a group  of  rowers 
man  the  big  sweep  oar  and  with  feverish  haste 
sidle  their  craft  out  of  the  sucking  maelstrom 
under  the  stern.  For  an  instant,  only  an  in- 
stant, the  traveler  glimpses  the  little  yellow  faces 
with  the  black  braids  wound  around  the  tops 
of  their  heads  like  so  many  victims  in  the 
Adventure  of  the  Speckled  Band.  Some  laugh, 
displaying  yellow  teeth,  only  a shade  less 
sallow  than  the  skin  stretching  like  drumheads 
over  the  hidden  bones.  Others  make  no  effort 
to  conceal  the  terror  clutching  at  their  hearts, 

5 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


for  all  are  poor  men,  and  the  fear  of  death 
is  heavily  upon  them. 

It  may  be  only  a fishing  craft,  or  again  it 
may  be  that  the  hold  of  the  junk  is  heavily 
laden  with  the  stuff  that  steals  into  men’s 
brains,  slowly  atrophying  the  intellect  and  all 
the  nicer  faculties.  For  opium  running  is  still 
the  great  adventure.  Nor  does  the  wealthy 
foreigner,  whose  gold  has  only  accentuated  his 
desire,  hesitate  to  empty  his  coffers  into  the 
trade;  for  his  name  need  never  appear,  and  he 
can  lounge  over  his  coffee  in  a sumptuously  ap- 
pointed club  and  mentally  calculate  his  gain. 

But  the  great  ship  rushes  on,  and  almost 
instantly  the  junk  is  dancing  away  to  the 
windward,  though  now  that  she  is  out  of  reach 
of  the  devil  from  over  the  sea,  one  or  two  of 
her  crew  wave  their  hands,  a barely  distin- 
guishable fluttering  like  one  shade  of  yellow 
over  another  less  deep.  In  time  whole  fleets 
of  junks  spring  into  view.  I purposely  say 
spring  into  view  because,  what  with  the 
yellow  of  the  sea  and  the  yellow  of  the  hulls 
and  the  sails,  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish 
these  craft  until  they  are  nearly  upon  you. 
The  traveler  feels  himself  growing  impatient. 
His  skin  is  delightfully  a-tingle.  China  has 
already  commenced  to  work  her  stupendous 
will,  and  the  yellow  waters  are  only  an  omen 

6 


I 


1UXI>  AM)  (OXSUI.ATKS  AT  SHANGHAI 


MR.  LUDWIG  TRAVELLING  DE  LUXE 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


of  the  yellow  race,  as  if  one  should  see  green 
before  catching  a glimpse  of  some  mighty  jungle 
waste. 

The  air  grows  heavy,  too,  and  oppressive, 
in  a sort  of  delectable  way,  with  mystery, 
the  mystery  of  the  earlier  centuries  of  mankind. 
The  wind  has  died  away  and  the  only  sound 
that  breaks  the  silence  of  the  deep  is  the 
occasional  swish  of  the  waveless  sea  as  it 
falls  away  from  the  ship,  gaining  momentum 
for  another  quiet  assault.  The  sky  is  a burn- 
ing yellow  haze  with  the  sun  shining  through 
it  like  an  arc  light  through  a mist  of  rain.  The 
traveler  has  not  yet  changed  his  clothes.  He 
is  still  wearing  wool.  But  as  he  watches  the 
indeterminate  sun  he  involuntarily  drops  his 
fingers  to  the  hem  of  his  coat  and  rustles  the 
cloth  until  suddenly  he  realizes  that  his  hands 
are  wet.  Which  reminds  him  that  his  collar 
is  wilted. 

In  a little  while,  perhaps  about  four  in  the 
afternoon,  when  the  sun  has  dropped  perilously 
near  the  earth  and  the  yellow  haze  seems 
concentrated  on  the  edge  of  the  sea,  a dark 
brown  line,  a wavy  rushlike  line,  makes  itself 
manifest  just  between  the  haze  and  the  yellow 
waters.  The  traveler  has  never  seen  such  a 
phenomenon  before,  but  when  he  cudgels  his 
brain  he  remembers  crossing  the  Gulf  of 

7 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Mexico  and  suddenly  seeing  land  come  up  like 
a reef  hitherto  submerged.  He  adjusts  his 
binoculars  and  looks  fixedly  at  the  line  until  he 
sees  it  move,  wave,  as  it  were.  And  then  he 
knows  that  this  is  land,  that  this  is  the  shore 
of  the  Middle  Kingdom. 

He  inquires  of  a passing  officer  to  sub- 
stantiate his  find.  And  the  officer  tells  him 
that  their  destination  is  far  in  behind  that  line 
of  waving  grass.  So  he  must  go  still  farther 
in!  The  Celestial  Kingdom  is  only  displaying 
itself  by  degrees.  First  came  the  sea,  and  now 
this  line  of  brownish  waving  grass.  What 
next?  The  pulse  of  the  traveler  beats  faster. 
He  feels  the  customs  of  the  western  world 
sloughing  off  him  like  the  leaves  of  deciduous 
plants.  He  feels  himself  becoming  a pagan, 
and  he  is  prone  to  wonder  just  how  completely 
the  great  forces  of  this  older  world  will  have 
him  in  their  power.  For  it  is  a power  that 
encompasses  one  on  every  side,  as  a break- 
water encompasses  the  sea. 

There  is  an  escape,  but  like  the  escape  from 
the  breakwater,  it  is  small,  nearly  invisible. 
But  the  traveler  feels  no  regret  that  he  cannot 
escape.  He  has  come  a long  way  and  previ- 
ously made  up  his  mind  that  his  fingers  shall 
clutch  at  everything,  that  even  the  minutest 
experience  shall  not  pass  him  by.  And  in 

8 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


reaching  this  conclusion  he  has  done  wisely, 
for  the  mountain  has  never  yet  been  known 
to  come  to  Alahomet,  and  if  Mahomet  would 
penetrate  the  secrets  of  the  mountain  only  one 
course  is  open.  The  ravines  of  the  world  are 
deep  and  inaccessible  to  all  except  those  who 
abide  in  them  and  that  other  small  company 
of  gifted  souls  who  have  a vision  of  the 
ubiquitous  nature  of  man. 

“I  will  cast  this  cloak  from  me  and  put  on 
another,”  said  the  prophet  Narma-klian,  “for 
in  this  wise  shall  I deceive  the  king  who 
believes  that  nothing  is  so  interesting  as  the 
exterior  of  man.  And  in  this  he  shows  great 
wisdom.  Otherwise  he  were  not  king.  ” 

The  great  ship  crept  along,  and  I found 
myself  not  unlike  my  fairy  traveler,  who  after 
all  is  not  a fairy  but  every  one  who  shows  the 
wisdom  of  the  prophet  Narma-khan.  I,  too, 
felt  the  magic  of  the  East  creeping  like  Lethe, 
almost  insidiously,  into  my  bones.  This  expe- 
rience, which  was  to  be  the  greatest  one  of  my 
life,  had  already  risen  like  Constantine’s  cross 
in  the  upper  arc  of  the  heavens.  I,  too,  could 
see  the  writing  on  the  wall,  and  shall  I own 
that  I was  courageous  enough,  or  should  I say 
weak  enough,  to  read?  As  I look  back  on  it 
now  and  catch  the  glamor  of  the  vision  I must 
affirm  that  it  was  not  owing  to  weakness. 

9 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Nor  was  it  altogether  a matter  of  courage,  but 
rather  one  of  destiny,  which  a man  might  as 
well  try  to  avoid  as  to  flutter  upwards  from 
the  highest  peak  of  the  Alps. 

It  was  evening,  and  the  sun  had  gone  down 
in  a quiet  blast  of  heat,  gone  down  to  India, 
coasting  along  the  further  Himalayas,  dipping 
into  Turkestan  and  visiting  every  imaginable 
country  the  mention  of  whose  name  brings 
mystery  and  charm  to  literature  and  childhood 
and  the  blood  of  men.  We  had  suddenly  come 
in  sight  of  one  of  the  mouths  of  the  Yangtze, 
the  mighty  river  that  is  partially  responsible 
for  the  Yellow  Sea;  for  the  silt  and  loess 
accumulated  year  by  year  are  being  contin- 
uously borne  from  the  hinterland  to  be  vomited 
into  the  unresisting  deep.  The  steamer  had 
come  to  anchor  and  I saw  a variety  of  small 
craft  of  every  conceivable  color  and  design 
circling  in  and  about  the  delta.  A little  way 
to  the  right,  on  the  end  of  what  appeared  to  be 
a peninsula,  stood  a beacon  that  burned 
steadily,  sending  a yellow  glare  over  the  mouth 
of  the  river  and  looking  for  all  the  world  like 
the  low-hung  moon.  The  liner  swung  cease- 
lessly with  the  tide.  Now  we  were  pointing 
out  to  the  Yellow  Sea,  as  if  we  were  home- 
ward bound,  and  now  the  sw'ell  of  the  under- 
tow seemed  to  push  us  silently  toward  the 

10 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


land.  The  gong  rang  for  dinner,  but  I stood 
like  one  enchanted,  trying  to  anticipate  the 
future,  delving  deep  into  history  and  conjuring 
up  New  Arabian  Nights  and  all  the  fairy  lore 
of  my  fast  receding  infancy. 

It  was  with  somewhat  of  a start  that  I 
noticed  the  inland  sky  ablaze  with  a whitish 
light.  I had  forgotten  our  port  of  disembark- 
ment.  A sailor  passed  me,  carrying  a bucket 
of  dirty  water.  I grasped  him  by  the  arm. 
He  looked  menacingly  at  me  for  a moment, 
grasping  the  edge  of  the  bucket  tightly  as  if  he 
were  half  of  a mind  to  dash  the  contents  in  my 
face.  I was  not  of  his  kind,  so  what  should  I 
want  with  him?  Thus  ran  his  reason.  But  I 
immediately  pointed  to  the  blaze  of  light  in 
the  distance.  He  followed  my  hand  with  his 
eyes  and  muttered  (it  sounded  like  muttering 
to  me)  a single  word,  or  rather  two  sounds, — 
“Shanghai.” 

I turned  away  from  him  like  a flash.  So  we 
had  arrived!  And  instantly  I fell  to  wondering 
what  lay  under  that  silent  blaze  of  light.  For 
under  the  light  was  China.  Not  the  Yellow 
Sea,  not  an  isolated  junk  with  its  crew  glower- 
ing far  below  me,  not  a line  of  waving  brown- 
ish grass,  but  a great  city  teeming  with 
countless  humans;  and  these  humans  were 
Chinese.  I recollected  the  manner  in  which 

11 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  word  had  captivated  my  fancy.  How 
could  I eat?  It  was  all  I could  do  to  restrain 
myself  from  hailing  a passing  craft  and  bargain- 
ing with  it  for  a passage  up  the  river.  I 
afterwards  found  that  I could  have  done  just 
this.  But  I did  not  know  it  then,  and  anyhow 
it  proved  unnecessary  when  the  big  tender 
loomed  out  of  the  mists  of  the  upper  channel 
and  shrieked  three  long  whistles  which  w^ere 
to  be  interpreted,  “All  those  going  ashore, 
stand  at  attention.”  I hurried  below%  for 
China  was  finally  at  hand. 

Shanghai  burst  on  my  view  wdth  all  the 
glamor  of  Oriental  imagery.  The  bund  was  a 
flare  of  lights,  and  although  I had  not  ex- 
pected to  meet  with  a landscape  so  partially 
European,  still  I was  not  altogether  dis- 
enchanted of  my  dream.  The  jetty  was 
crowded  with  sampans,  or  Chinese  row’boats, 
the  bulk  of  which  clamored  out  to  meet  us, 
begging  that  we  would  drop  our  trunks  over 
the  side,  and  assuring  us  that  they  would 
fish  them  out  of  the  river  for  the  consideration 
of  a few,  oh,  such  a few  pence.  But  my  eyes 
were  not  for  them. 

Straight  ahead  lay  the  bund;  and  up  and 
down  it  in  ceaseless  flow  was  moving  a strange 
humanity.  Here  and  there  I could  make  out 
the  garb  of  a European  but  the  bulk  of  them 

12 


PAILOW  FOR  CHINESE  WOMAN  MIIO  NEVER  RE- MARRIED 


SIKH  POLICEMAN 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


were  Orientals,  and  though  this  part  of 
Shanghai,  which  is  called  the  new  city,  is  not 
so  Chinesy,  if  I may  coin  a word,  as  the  older 
and  distinctly  Chinese  section,  still  it  was 
different  from  anything  I had  ever  seen  before. 
There  was  an  atmosphere  about  it  distinctly 
Eastern,  though  not  quite  richly  Oriental. 
The  majority  of  the  populace  w’ere  shuffling 
down  the  street,  quietly  and  orderly,  and  only 
the  occasional  bawl  of  a coolie  broke  the 
deathlike  stillness. 

Every  eye  seemed  to  be  fastened  on  the 
coming  of  the  tender.  Every  heart  beat  in 
suspense  until  the  companion  ladder  was 
lowered  and  the  first  group  of  passengers  w^ent 
down  with  mincing  steps  to  the  jetty.  For  as 
soon  as  the  first  man,  wfflo  happened  to  be  a 
woman,  stepped  on  Chinese  soil,  a prolonged 
howl  rent  the  night.  The  ’rickshaw  coolies 
from  near  and  far  came  racing  down  the 
streets,  crashing  into  one  another,  dodging 
almost  miraculously  at  times  oncoming  car- 
riages, and  last,  but  by  no  means  least,  evading 
the  stout  cudgels  of  the  towering  Sikh  police- 
men who  are  specially  imported  to  strike  terror 
into  the  hearts  of  the  natives. 

One  group  of  coolies  bargained  for  the  priv- 
ilege of  carrying  my  trunks,  another  grasped 
at  various  parts  of  my  anatomy  and  tried 

13 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


to  shove  me  into  twenty  different  vehicles  at 
once.  By  a stroke  of  fortune  I learned  that 
my  destination,  the  Palace  Hotel,  was  only  a 
few  yards  distant;  so,  giving  my  baggage  into 
the  hands  of  a native  who  was  wearing  the 
hotel  livery,  I started  out  into  the  city.  But 
my  ’rickshaw  hounds  pursued  me  to  the  very 
portals  of  the  Palace.  And  even  when  I had 
set  my  foot  finally  within  the  door  one  fellow 
slipped  up  and  grasped  my  arm  in  his  clawlike 
hand,  confiding  in  extremely  broken  English 
that  there  was  another  place  only  a mile  away 
that  was  cheaper  and  every  whit  better  than 
the  “Pally  ’Otel.” 

But  I was  in  no  mood  to  venture  farther,  so 
I dodged  inside  and  for  the  time  being  escaped, 
not  only  from  my  tormentors,  but  from  nearly 
every  trace  of  the  Middle  Kingdom.  For  the 
Palace  Hotel  was  built  for  foreigners,  and 
though  the  servants,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Eurasian  clerks,  are  all  Chinese,  I found  myself 
in  an  atmosphere  distinctly  European.  So 
much  so,  in  fact,  that  bright  and  early  the 
next  morning  I escaped  to  the  Orient,  which 
is  only  half  a mile  away  and  very  dirty  and 
smelly  until  one  acquires  the  taste,  which  one 
seldom  does. 

Shanghai  is  the  city  of  every  nation  but  the 
home  of  none,  if,  of  course,  we  exclude  the 

14 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


natives  who,  when  they  go  abroad,  are  in- 
ordinately proud  of  the  city  of  their  birth.  I 
was  not  to  remain  there  permanently;  in  fact, 
I learned  that  I was  not  to  be  anywhere 
permanently,  but  a kind  of  rolling  stone.  But 
there  is  an  advantage  in  being  a rolling  stone 
in  China.  One  may  not  gather  moss, — as  if 
that  were  a commendable  occupation!  But 
one  does  gather  experience.  The  customs  and 
practices  of  the  country  vary  like  the  spoken 
language,  and  to  know  China  one  must  know 
all  of  it,  for  the  cities  are  strangely  provincial, 
and  the  villages  are  tombs.  I did  not  know 
at  once  what  my  next  movements  were  to  be, 
nor  did  I greatly  care.  My  chiefest  concern 
for  the  moment,  and,  in  reality,  for  every 
subsequent  moment,  was  to  plunge  as  deeply 
as  I could  into  the  life  of  the  people.  This 
was  not  so  easily  done  as  said.  The  language 
seems  at  first  a nearly  insurmountable  barrier. 

Even  now  I have  pleasure  in  recalling  how 
that  Chinese  language  first  impinged  on  my 
auditory  nerves.  Should  I ever  be  able  to 
learn  it?  I feared  not.  In  the  first  place  it  is 
sung  and  every  one  knows  how  diflficult  it  is  to 
distinguish  words  that  are  sung.  I listened  to 
the  coolies  bawling  in  the  streets.  I walked 
into  the  Chinese  quarter  where  the  merchants, 
in  long  blue  cotton  coats  with  their  pigtails 

15 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


hanging  to  their  heels,  chanted  their  monoto- 
nous rigmarole.  Little  groups  of  men  would 
cluster  about  them  and  stand  listening  with  a 
sort  of  stupid  stare  on  their  yellow  upturned 
faces,  finally  to  shuffle  along  to  the  next  stall 
where  perhaps  a more  brilliant  lot  of  articles 
was  on  display.  By  and  by,  even  during  the 
passing  of  that  first  day,  the  language  grew  on 
my  ears.  It  sang  itself,  as  it  were,  into  my 
subconsciousness.  I went  home  that  night  to 
sleep,  but  there  was  no  sleep.  The  language 
still  was  ringing  in  my  ears. 

In  the  Chinese  quarter  are  the  great  silk 
shops  of  the  world;  places  where  I first  saw 
Chinese  women  of  the  better  class,  beautifully 
dressed,  and  moving  about  with  ceremonious 
bows  like  so  many  people  at  court.  The 

courtesy  of  the  Chinese  is  always  excessive,  and 
at  no  time  is  it  more  advantageously  displayed 
than  when  a wealthy  patroness  emerges  from 
her  almost  maidenly  seclusion  to  replenish  her 
wardrobe.  She  is  borne  down  the  narrow 
streets  in  a richly  ornamented  chair.  The 

curtains  are  dropped  on  all  sides.  No  one  may 
look  upon  her  face  while  she  rides.  And  even 
when  she  descends,  a child  servant,  a little  girl 
and  virtually  a slave,  opens  a silk  umbrella 
with  dropping  sides  and  holds  it  over  her  head 
while  the  great  lady  picks  her  way  with  feline 

16 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


nicety  into  the  shop.  Her  tiny  feet  twinkle, 
in  their  satin-shod  simplicity.  Her  beautiful 
skirt  parts  below  her  hips,  showing  intermit- 
tently the  even  daintier  garments  underneath. 
Only  the  flesh  of  her  hands  is  visible,  and  even 
her  hands  shrink  into  the  ample  sleeves  as  if 
they  would  hide  themselves  from  the  stare  of 
the  vulgar  mob. 

But  once  inside  all  is  changed.  The  parasol 
is  shut  with  a rustle  of  shimmering  silk,  and 
the  great  lady  exposes  her  peachbloom  com- 
plexion with  frequent  glances  to  see  that  her 
attendants  are  always  near.  She  hangs  her 
head  modestly.  Her  black  almond  eyes  turn 
their  rich  glow,  vibrant  with  a consciousness 
of  her  beauty  and  charm,  on  her  hands.  The 
merchant  addresses  her  with  bowed  head.  He 
would  not  presume  to  gaze  on  her  with  desire, 
for  how  else  could  he  gaze  on  a creature  so 
charmingly  rare.^  Eye  evades  eye  and  only 
when  she  finds  the  stuff  that  she  has  dreamed 
of  during  the  vigils  of  her  sleepless  nights  when 
she  thought  how  best  to  captivate  her  lord 
anew,  does  she  permit  a smile  to  soften  the 
arrested  color  of  her  features.  She  smiles  and 
the  merchant  smiles,  though  still  with  bended 
head.  Once  again  the  little  slave  girl  trots 
obediently  before  and  the  great  lady,  watching 
the  little  one’s  feet,  follows  in  their  path  to  be 

17 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


ensconced  once  more  in  the  privacy  of  her 
palanquin  and  borne  away  to  her  home  in  the 
residential  part  of  the  city. 

It  all  was  beautiful  beyond  description,  and 
I was  impatient  of  the  day  when  I should  know 
such  an  one  as  she,  perhaps  meet  her  in  her 
home  and  linger  with  her  in  her  gardens.  But 
first  I should  have  to  learn  the  language  of  her 
lord.  With  him  a look  was  not  sufficient.  It 
would  be  commonplaces,  commonplaces,  com- 
monplaces. And  then  when  the  spoken  word 
began  to  flow,  when  the  nice  phrase  came  at 
will,  and  I could  sing  my  thoughts,  then, 
thought  I,  I shall  truly  enter  into  a princely 
heritage.  And  the  day  did  come,  and  I 
entered  into  my  heritage. 

The  streets  were  ablaze  with  signs  of  every 
conceivable  color  and  length.  I walked  con- 
stantly under  them,  as  if  under  waving  banners. 
The  way  was  narrow  and  not  straight,  which 
was  an  added  source  of  pleasure,  for  one  never 
knows  what  is  coming  next.  At  one  of  the 
gates,  on  the  tops  of  carved  and  painted  posts 
were  two  heads  that  struck  me  as  being 
remarkably  human.  Not  human-like,  under- 
stand, but  actually  the  heads  of  men.  And  so 
they  were.  They  had  been  put  there  the  day 
before  as  an  example  to  the  populace,  and  the 
populace  looked  once  and  did  not  look  again. 

18 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


What  were  two  lives  in  four  hundred  millions? 
The  ’rickshaw’  coolie  looked  and  chuckled. 
There  would  be  more  work  for  him.  There 
were  four  less  arms  and  legs  to  drag  others 
through  the  streets. 

A huge  Sikh  policeman  came  down  the 
middle  of  the  thoroughfare,  dragging  three 
men  behind  him.  The  sight  w’as  indeed 
comical.  For  instead  of  grasping  them  by 
their  arms,  he  had  merely  taken  a twdst  on 
their  queues  and  so  held  them  in  an  excruci- 
ating bondage.  They  trotted  meekly  along, 
anxious  to  keep  their  pigtails  slack,  their  backs 
bent  nearly  double  like  men  about  to  commit 
a stealthy  crime.  I was  the  only  one  who 
noticed  them.  Poor  men!  Were  there  going 
to  be  three  heads  on  the  morrow? 

When  I got  back  to  the  Palace  Hotel  I 
learned  with  delight  that  I had  been  ordered  to 
Moukden  to  study  the  customs  and  the 
language.  The  picture  of  the  beautiful  lady 
danced  before  my  eager  eyes.  I should  have  to 
leave  Shanghai,  but  then  Shanghai  w’as  alto- 
gether too  foreign.  The  Chinese  are  a most 
adaptable  people.  They  have  to  be  to  survive. 
I w’anted  old  China  with  all  its  oriental 
glamor.  I got  it,  a part  of  it,  in  Moukden. 


19 


CHAPTER  II 


It  was  one  of  the  anomalies  of  travel  that  I 
should  cover  the  nearly  two  miles  from  the 
Yamato  Hotel,  which  is  a hotbed  of  Japanese 
imperialism,  to  the  north  gate  of  Moukden 
city  in  what  once  had  been  New  York  City 
horse  cars.  Now  they  were  pony  cars,  and 
one  felt  all  the  thrill  of  a chariot  race  w'hen 
riding  in  them.  But  before  I came  to  the 
pony  cars  I came  to  the  Yamato  Hotel,  a 
place  which  I was  to  know  intimately  by  and 
by.  For  it  became  my  custom  to  ride  my  pony 
down  on  Thursday  nights  and  meet  the  trans- 
Siberian  express.  Every  sort  of  political  refu- 
gee congregated  in  the  Yamato  Hotel.  And 
not  all  of  them  were  of  the  masculine  type. 
Not  infrequently  a gracious  lady  alighted  from 
the  train  and,  if  one  were  sufficiently  cir- 
cumspect, one  might  interview  her  in  the 
upper  drawing-room  and  exchange  cards  with 
her  and  badinage  in  pretty  French  which 
meant  nothing  but  conveyed  a great  deal. 

I descended  into  Moukden  on  what  would 
have  been  a tempestuous  winter’s  night  in  any 

20 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


other  country  in  the  world.  But  in  Manchuria 
the  ground  was  snowless,  and  the  deep  vault 
of  the  heavens  shone  like  an  inverted  porcelain 
bowl  of  exquisite  blue.  The  blue  was  punc- 
tuated here  and  there  by  separate  points  of 
light  which  did  not  burn  like  the  Pleiades  in  a 
warmer  clime  but  shone  with  a sort  of  rigid 
warmth,  like  the  smile  of  a beautiful  but 
haughty  w’oman.  The  engine  panted  as  if  for 
breath,  and  from  far  away  came  the  singing 
of  the  telegraph  wures  as  they  stretched 
glitteringly  in  the  starlight  like  cobwebs  spun 
from  silver. 

There  w'as  merrymaking  in  the  hotel.  But 
it  w’as  an  international  merrymaking.  I saw 
huge  Russians  who  by  their  dress  exemplified 
the  opening  sentence  of  one  of  Kipling’s 
powerful  tales:  “Let  it  be  clearly  understood 
that  the  Russian  is  a delightful  person  till  he 
tucks  his  shirt  in.” 

Some  of  them  had  their  shirts  tucked  in 
and  others  were  more  picturesquely  costumed. 
There  was  one  enormous  fellow  for  whom  I 
conceived  a nearly  frantic  admiration,  the  sort 
that  a very  small  boy  lavishes  on  the  most 
noble  man  in  the  world.  If  he  wasn’t  a spy, 
he  had  verily  missed  his  calling.  I am  sure  he 
was  also  once  a duke,  or  a general,  or  some- 
thing equally  exalted.  I learned  later  that  he 

21 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


was  the  confidential  secretary  of  the  consul. 
I knew  there  would  be  something  secret 
about  him. 

But  the  most  magnificent  part  of  him  was 
his  whiskers.  I often  remarked  in  conversation 
that  he  would  have  been  worth  his  weight  in 
Chinese  silver,  which  is  a very  indeterminate 
stuff,  in  Hollywood.  And  I often  entertained 
the  idea  of  nominating  myself  a manager  of 
one  and  transporting  him  to  the  center  of 
movie-land.  His  manners  were  exquisite,  and 
he  could  convey  more  impressions  without 
saying  a word  than  any  person  I have  yet 
encountered.  As  a banker  he  would  have 
been  superb.  As  a titled  personage  none  could 
have  surpassed  him.  It  was  not  until  I had 
been  some  months  resident  that  I learned  that 
he  was  not  so  thoroughly  Russian  as  I had 
first  supposed.  Kamaroff  didn’t  even  wear  a 
shirt.  His  whiskers  served  instead,  and  true 
to  Kipling’s  phrase,  he  tucked  them  in. 

Truly  it  was  a motley  crowd,  and  I don’t 
know  how  many  of  my  colleagues  passed  me 
by  before  one  of  them,  noticing  my  signature 
on  the  register,  approached  and  inquired  with 
continental  courtesy  if  I might  happen  to  be 
that  person.  I lingered  a while  in  the  Yamato 
Hotel  before  striking  off  for  the  city,  the  heart 
of  which  was  some  three  miles  distant.  My 

22 


A LAilA  TEMPLE 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


health  was  drunk  so  many  times  that  night 
that  Serruys,  my  Belgian  colleague,  was  the 
only  one  fit  to  see  me  home.  He  was  a tall 
splendid-looking  boy  who  might  have  passed 
for  his  king.  W e bundled  into  our  great  coats 
and  went  into  the  night,  seeking  the  pony  cars, 
for  they  were  quicker  than  ’rickshaws,  and 
besides,  one  could  derive  no  little  heat  from 
the  steaming  bodies  of  the  natives,  though  I 
later  learned  to  prefer  the  biting  cold  and  the 
still  fresh  air. 

The  Manchurian  ponies  are  rugged  little 
beasts  standing  some  thirteen  hands,  and  in 
the  winter  their  coats  are  long  and  mangy  like 
a bear’s.  They  stood,  the  pair  of  them,  leaning 
against  each  other  to  preserve  the  heat  of  their 
bodies.  I saw  the  breath  steaming  from  their 
nostrils  as  if  they  had  been  demons  instead  of 
poor,  dumb  little  brutes,  who  nevertheless 
were  as  savage  as  their  once  wild  prototypes. 
We  clambered  into  the  car,  and  when  it  was 
full,  in  the  rush-hour  sense  of  the  word,  the 
driver  jangled  his  bell  and  lashed  the  little 
beasts  into  a frenzy  of  frantic  speed.  When 
the  car  had  gathered  its  completest  momentum 
I imagine  we  were  traveling  some  twenty  miles 
an  hour,  for  in  this  direction  there  was  a slight 
down  grade  and  the  ponies  knew  they  were 
going  home.  The  windows  steamed  and  it 

23 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


was  impossible  to  see  into  the  night.  I was 
stiff  from  my  cramped  position  and  the  cold 
when  finally  we  came  to  a grinding  stop 
and  alighted  before  the  gates  of  Moukden 
city. 

Even  at  this  late  hour  (it  was  near  eleven 
o’clock,  I should  judge)  a number  of  people 
were  about.  Hawkers  were  crying  and  bawling 
on  all  sides.  Venders  of  food,  carrying  their 
stoves  on  their  backs,  clustered  about  the  car, 
eager  to  dispense  a sizable  meal  for  a couple  of 
coppers.  Great  shaggy  dogs  rose  out  of  the 
uneven  places  of  the  street  to  growl  and  slink 
into  the  farther  shadows.  A child’s  wail 
coming  from  some  distant  hut,  perhaps  a half 
a mile  distant,  insinuated  itself,  as  it  were, 
into  my  consciousness.  And  before  me  the 
great  city  wall  rose  up,  and  for  the  moment  it 
struck  me  that  I was  going  into  exile  or  into  a 
sort  of  prison.  For  I and  my  colleague  were 
the  only  whites  about  and  consequently  we 
flared,  at  least  in  our  own  opinions,  against 
the  pagan  landscape. 

While  the  ponies  were  yet  panting  from  their 
run  through  the  winter’s  night  we  were  safely 
ensconced  in  ’rickshaws,  and  in  another  in- 
stant had  passed  underneath  the  great  north 
gate.  A Chinese  city  is  builded  after  the 
manner  of  their  written  character  for  a well. 

24 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


There  is  a big  north  gate  as  well  as  a little 
north  gate,  and  so  on.  The  big  north  gate  runs 
through  to  meet  the  big  south  gate,  so  that 
if  it  were  not  for  the  various  towers  rising  out 
of  the  middle  of  the  city  one  could  have  an 
unobstructed  view  from  one  wall  to  the  other. 
We  wound  in  and  out  of  numerous  side  streets 
and  alleys.  ’Rickshaw  men  do  not  believe 
that  a straight  line  is  the  shortest  distance 
between  two  points.  They  prefer  to  wind 
about.  They  abhor  long  vistas.  In  their 
opinion  it  takes  too  long  to  come  to  the  end 
of  them. 

Inside  the  walls  the  city  lay  asleep.  Occa- 
sionally a soldier  rose  out  of  the  sheltering 
shadow  of  a dwelling  and  challenged  us.  The 
governor  himself  had  once  been  a robber  baron. 
He  knew  their  ways  and  after  dark  it  was 
worth  a native’s  life  to  be  abroad.  But  our 
answer,  or  rather  my  colleague’s,  that  we  were 
students  of  the  Customs  College,  invariably 
let  us  by.  At  the  great  south  gate,  however, 
we  were  not  so  fortunate.  Serruys  had  for- 
gotten the  monthly  pass  issued  by  Chang 
Tso-lin.  So  there  was  need  for  bickering  of 
an  extended  nature.  I shall  never  forget  how 
Serruys  talked  to  the  officer  who  insisted  that 
we  should  not  go  out  of  the  city.  I later 
learned  that  the  bulk  of  the  talk  was  swearing. 

25 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


I was  relieved  to  learn  this,  for  it  distinctly 
sounded  that  way. 

Finally  we  got  through  and  came  into  the 
great  south  quarter  of  the  suburbs.  This  was 
to  be  my  home  for  many,  many  months,  while 
I wrestled  with  the  quite  unparalleled  idiosyn- 
crasies of  the  spoken  and  written  tongues. 
The  city  outside  the  gates  is  not  unlike  the 
city  inside,  except  perhaps  that  it  is  more 
ragged  and  topsy-turvy  and  smelly.  There  was 
no  one  about  in  these  outskirts.  It  was  like 
another  Pompeii,  except  that  on  the  morrow 
it  would  be  resurrected  and  life  begun  anew. 
The  streets  were  excessively  narrow.  In  places 
I could  have  reached  out  my  hand  and  touched 
the  walls  of  the  houses  with  my  fingers.  For 
in  China  every  house  has  its  encircling  wall 
and  the  streets  are  like  so  many  passageways, 
the  only  opening  off  them  being  other  streets  or 
doors  into  solid  masonry. 

The  routine  of  life  goes  on  in  China  about 
the  same  as  anywhere  in  the  world.  But 
there  is  a great  deal  that  is  not  routine,  that  is 
in  the  highest  degree  spectacular,  and  though 
I was  not  forever  falling  into  a sort  of  tempes- 
tuous fairyland,  there  were  times,  and  a suffi- 
ciency of  them,  when  life  was  surfeited  with 
excitement.  My  home  was  an  old  palace  of 
one  of  the  native  princes.  Here  I resided  with 

2G 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


niy  seven  colleagues,  all  European,  and  all, 
like  myself,  being  initiated  into  the  language. 
We  were  fortunate  in  being  so  well  appointed, 
for  the  governor  considered  it  his  duty  to  make 
us  his  guests  from  time  to  time.  In  this  way 
we  were  introduced  to  the  intimate  workings 
of  the  political  regime. 

I was  barely  settled  before  the  tenth  of 
October  came  around  and  with  it  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  birth  of  the  greatest  republic  on 
earth.  The  governor,  Chang  Tso-lin,  had 
conceived  the  idea  of  making  a fairly  festive 
occasion  of  this  day.  And  the  fates  connived 
at  his  scheme.  The  city  was  a riot  of  color  and 
pageantry.  The  gay  uniforms  of  the  soldiers 
contrasted  sharply  with  the  blue  of  the  citizens, 
not  to  mention  the  gorgeous  silks  of  the  gentler 
sex  and  the  quite  heterogeneous  costumes  of 
the  children. 

Every  imaginable  hue  was  in  evidence.  One 
lady  w’as  w’earing  a handsome  sea-green  coat 
and  shoes  of  a like  brilliancy.  Her  hair  was 
done  in  the  fantastic  Manchu  style  with  little 
peaks  and  gables  and  whirligigs.  On  further 
glance  I saw  that  she  was  exceedingly  beauti- 
ful, and  that  she  was  the  center  of  an  admiring 
throng  wKo  now  advanced  and  now  receded, 
depending  on  her  propinquity.  She  was  tall 
and  stately  and  very  unlike  the  women  of  the 

27 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


south.  I could  only  imagine  the  ripened  curves 
of  her  form  from  the  suppleness  of  her  move- 
ments. She  moved  slowly,  yet  with  an  ex- 
quisite grace.  Breadth  of  stride  was  suggested 
rather  than  openly  practiced.  It  was  as  if  she 
felt  the  consciousness  of  her  womanly  charm 
and  yet  disdained  to  show  it  in  the  open  street. 

Her  complexion  was  flawless,  like  the  com- 
plexions of  Manchu  children.  Her  cheeks  were 
firm  though  exquisitely  molded  over  the  bones 
which  were  high  and  pronounced,  showing  her 
Tartar  ancestry.  She  was  so  different  from 
the  little  lady  of  Shanghai!  But  at  the  same 
time  I could  detect  the  same  matchless  mod- 
esty, the  identical  glow  of  the  blue-black  eyes 
which  shone  with  a kind  of  restrained  coquetry. 

It  struck  me  that  her  life  was  being  held  in 
abeyance,  but  would  she  have  been  so  beauti- 
ful if  this  were  true?  I think  not.  No  wonder 
that  the  men  who  ruled  the  Middle  Kingdom 
invented  concubinage,  which  is  only  another 
name  for  the  love  that  often  did  not  come  with 
marriage.  In  China  matches  are  by  no  means 
made  in  heaven.  Can  any  man  fall  in  love 
with  any  woman?  An  old  sage  asked  that 
question,  and  though  he  did  not  dare  put  his 
answer  in  writing,  he  was  known  to  have 
moved  his  head  crosswiscly.  In  this  way  he 
gave  a silent  sanction  to  love. 

28 


WALLED-IX  HOMES  AND  STREET 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


In  Peking,  not  so  far  from  the  Western  Hills, 
where  the  emperors  used  to  play  in  the  summer 
time,  there  is  a camel’s-back  bridge.  Beneath 
are  the  iridescent  lotus.  And  far  beneath  the 
lotus  leaves,  down  deep  where  the  light  of  the 
sun  is  unknown,  reside  the  souls  of  princesses 
w’ho  found  not  love  but  death.  For  here  they 
came  in  the  stillness  of  the  night  when  the 
Tartar  moon  made  shadows  on  the  water, 
and  here  they  wept  and  donned  white  silks 
and  let  themselves  fall  gently  beneath  the 
shimmering  surface. 

The  crowd  surged  and  I felt  myself  being 
borne  irresistibly  along.  There  was  a blare  of 
trumpets  and  people  scattered  out  of  the 
thoroughfare  like  autumn  leaves  caught  up 
by  a wintry  wind.  They  seemed  to  swirl 
themselves  hither  and  thither  as  the  mounted 
soldiers  came  riding  furiously  by.  These  were 
only  a prelude  to  the  procession.  By  and  by, 
dowm  near  the  great  drum  tower,  I could 
distinguish  a cluster  of  floating  banners,  and 
within  the  banners  I could  visualize  the  little 
man  whose  name  once  had  been  a household 
terror  throughout  the  countryside.  It  was  like 
the  old  story  of  taking  the  bad  boy  of  the 
gang  and  making  him  leader  to  cure  him. 
Chang  Tso-lin  did  not  plunder  openly  any 
more,  but  what  need  has  a king  for  plunder.^ 

29 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


It  should  be  easy  to  be  happy  if  you  are  rich; 
though  wise  men  have  quoted  differently. 

Though  I had  seen  pictures  of  the  former 
robber  chief  and  had  him  described  to  me, 
this  was  to  be  my  first  glimpse  of  him  in  the 
flesh.  He  was  riding  a cream-colored  pony 
whose  tail  barely  swept  the  ground,  and  one 
could  tell  at  a glance  that  the  little  governor 
was  a superb  horseman.  He  looked  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left.  He  merely  sat  like  a 
statue  while  the  pacing  pony  bore  him  statelily 
by.  The  crowd  upturned  their  faces.  There 
was  admiration  and  fear  depicted  in  every 
countenance.  What  would  I not  have  given  to 
have  seen  the  lady  in  green  just  then!  Did 
she  apply  for  one  of  his  glances,  or  was  she 
content  with  the  lord  that  fate  had  assigned 
her.^  But  the  governor  rode  impassively  on. 
His  face  was  set  with  a thoughtful  sobriety, 
though  there  was  humor  in  his  eyes,  the  sort 
of  humor  that  deals  death  while  it  smiles. 

He  had  just  gotten  a hundred  feet  below  me 
when  there  came  a blinding  flash,  succeeded 
by  a roar  out  of  a doorway  on  the  other  side 
of  the  street.  Immediately  the  crowd  became 
a mob.  There  was  a wild  scramble,  an  out- 
burst of  cries,  the  shrieks  of  women  mingling 
with  the  bowlings  of  dogs  and  the  execrations 
of  men.  And  through  it  all  the  mounted 

30 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


soldiers  rode  like  mad.  An  attempt  had  been 
made  on  the  life  of  Chang  Tso-lin.  Some  one, 
perhaps  the  father  or  brother  of  one  whose 
head  had  been  lopped  off  outside  the  city 
walls,  was  seeking  the  great  revenge.  But  the 
little  governor  bore  a charmed  life.  There  was 
a hurtling  of  limbs,  human  ones,  and  burnt 
clothing  through  the  air,  and  a cloud  of  thick 
gray  smoke  that  seemed  to  fall  upwards,  so 
slowly,  ponderously  did  it  move.  Then  all 
was  silent  again. 

Being  a foreigner,  I could  get  near  to  the 
scene  of  disaster,  for  there  had  been  disaster, 
even  though  the  little  man  on  the  cream- 
colored  pony  had  flitted  away  like  a dissolving 
cloud.  The  poor  wretch  who  would  have 
hurled  the  bomb  had  not  calculated  on  the 
height  of  the  door  lintel  over  his  head.  He 
had  raised  the  instrument  of  death  in  both 
hands,  thinking  to  hurl  it  far  across  the  street. 
But  the  metal  sphere  had  collided  with  the 
top  of  the  door  frame,  and  the  bomb,  rebound- 
ing into  the  dwelling,  had  exploded  with 
terrific  force. 

Eighteen  persons,  or  rather  the  remnants  of 
them,  were  identified  before  sundown.  It  was 
a ghastly  affair,  and  only  a single  evidence  of 
the  slumbering  antipathy  of  the  mass  for  its 
rulers,  an  antipathy  that  seldom  comes  to 

31 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


aught,  but  when  it  does  is  so  horrible,  so 
fiendish — as  only  Orientals  can  be  fiendish — 
that  it  strikes  terror  not  only  into  the  hearts 
of  those  against  whom  malice  is  directed  but 
even  into  the  hearts  of  the  criminals  them- 
selves. 

Chang  Tso-lin  had  escaped  to  the  Japanese 
consulate.  Once  more  his  dexterous  horseman- 
ship had  saved  him,  and  on  the  morrow  the 
incident  was  forgotten.  For  life  is  stern  in 
these  Eastern  lands.  Action  crowds  action 
with  surprising  frequency.  And  though  there 
is  the  old  eternal  repetition  of  eating  and 
drinking  and  sleeping,  there  is  also  that  which 
stirs  even  the  breasts  of  the  old  and  causes 
the  mothers  to  cuddle  their  infants  frantically 
to  their  bosoms.  There  is  also  that  which 
makes  the  blood  of  the  strongest  warrior  pale 
with  fear. 

We  got  to  talking  about  Chang  Tso-lin  that 
evening,  and  from  talking  about  the  little 
governor  we  naturally  drifted  on  to  robbers. 
Manchuria  is  infested  with  red-bearded  fellows, 
as  the  natives  colorfully  term  them.  My  old 
teacher  cautioned  me  not  to  go  too  far  from 
the  city.  “They  might  capture  you,”  he  said. 
And  then  I reflected  that  there  might  be  no 
little  wisdom  in  his  words,  for  a foreigner 
should  be  particularly  precious  in  their  sight. 

32 


1 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 

They  could  demand  a handsome  ransom  for  a 
foreigner.  When  I asked  my  old  teacher  more 
about  the  matter,  he  confided  to  me,  not  with- 
out a serious  light  in  his  eyes,  that  there  was  a 
notion  common  among  the  country  folk  that 
if  a man  could  make  his  executioner  laugh  the 
sword  would  fall  harmless  by  his  side.  On 
hearing  this  I at  once  implored  the  old  gentle- 
man to  tell  me  a number  of  anecdotes  that 
might  possibly  make  an  executioner  laugh.  I 
wanted  to  put  into  practice  that  new  adage 
of  safety  first.  But  the  old  teacher  waved  his 
yellow  hand  in  front  of  his  yellower  face  as 
much  as  to  say,  “You  can’t  depend  on  hear- 
say, you  know.”  He  believed  in  myths  but 
like  a practical  Son  of  Han  he  would  not 
risk  his  life  for  them. 

Most  of  the  robbers  are  ex-soldiers  who 
have  not  been  paid,  and,  having  guns,  they 
set  out  to  be  their  own  paymasters.  It  must 
be  a lucrative  business,  and  it  is  much  safer 
than  going  a-begging.  For  in  the  case  of 
going  a-begging  you  are  at  the  mercy  of  your 
constituents,  whereas  in  the  other  you  hold 
the  upper  hand.  It  is  a criminal  offence  for  a 
citizen  to  have  a firearm,  so  plundering  de- 
fenceless villages  does  not  call  for  excessive 
courage.  Where  courage  is  lacking  there  is 
usually  an  inordinate  amount  of  cruelty,  and 

33 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  farmers  suffer  untold  woes  at  the  hands  of 
these  ruffians.  But  the  little  governor  lops  off 
their  heads  as  fast  as  they  are  captured.  It 
will  be  a sorry  day  for  him  if  ever  the  tables 
are  turned. 


34 


CHAPTER  III 


The  upshot  of  our  conversation  about  the 
robbers  was  that  I should  meet  F'erdinand 
Berteaux,  French  Consul  at  Moukden,  who, 
Serruys  confided  to  me  one  day,  had  a Belgian 
army  pistol  for  sale.  It  turned  out  to  be  a 
lovely  weapon  of  blue  steel  and  I got  it  for 
about  one-third  its  value.  In  this  manner  I 
came  to  know  Ferdinand  Berteaux,  Chinese 
savant  and  art  connoisseur,  just  such  another 
person  as  Henri  Allegre  whom  Conrad  portrays 
so  picturesquely  in  “The  Arrow  of  Gold.” 
He  knew  the  Chinese  thoroughly,  one  felt. 
Added  to  a naturally  penetrative  mind  was 
that  delightful  French  characteristic  of  emo- 
tional aloofness.  I questioned  Ferdinand  Ber- 
teaux as  to  all  sorts  of  things.  And  always  I 
got  an  illuminating  answer,  cool,  incisive,  and 
sometimes  nearly  cruel.  He  had  been  leading 
the  solitary  life  for  eight  years.  Things  were 
no  longer  what  they  seemed,  but  what  they 
were. 

Nearly  every  week,  on  Saturday  nights,  he 
invited  Serruys  and  me  to  a famous  Chinese 

35 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


restaurant.  It  was  our  custom  to  go  early  and 
leave  early.  The  consul  had  arranged  his  life 
with  fastidious  care.  Usually  he  arrived  just 
a little  after  us,  the  pockets  of  his  greatcoat 
bulging  with  wines — red,  white — and  always 
the  most  delectable  champagne,  which  he  did 
not  taste  himself  but  forced  unsparingly  on  us 
and  on  any  of  the  Chinese  attendants  whom 
he  could  induce  to  drink. 

The  dinners  were  sumptuous  affairs.  Ordi- 
narily we  ordered  a Peking  duck.  We  always 
ordered  the  duck  first,  because  it  is  good 
Chinese  custom  to  permit  the  patron  a view 
of  the  bird  while  it  lives.  The  native,  who 
took  great  pride  in  serving  us  from  week  to 
week,  was  wont  to  drive  in  a big  fellow  for 
our  special  delectation.  He  made  the  poor 
duck  do  his  paces  like  a race  horse.  He 
pinched  him  to  make  him  quack,  and  he 
flopped  him  on  his  back  to  show  us  with  what 
celerity  the  big  fellow  could  right  himself. 
It  was  always  the  same.  Week  after  week 
this  duck  would  entertain  us  and  week  after 
week  we  would  send  him  away  and  call  for  a 
less  athletic,  more  ponderous,  fatty  fellow.  I 
believe  now  that  this  big  duck  was  a trained 
bird.  No  doubt  he  still  is  amusing  foreign 
patrons. 

Once  the  duck  was  ordered,  the  consul 

36 


A STREET  BARBER 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


would  turn  to  me  and  ask  what  my  fancy 
preferred.  I had  conceived  quite  a taste  for 
sharks’  fins,  so  invariably  I called  for  them. 
Now  let  it  be  known  from  the  outset  that 
sharks’  fins  are  a delicacy  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word.  When  cooked  they  form  a 
sort  of  gelatinous  stringy  mass,  but  quite 
without  the  prevailing  quality  of  strings. 
They  dissolve  readily  on  the  tongue,  do  not 
lodge  in  the  throat,  and  yet  can  be  chewed,  if 
one  feels  so  inclined.  The  soup  from  them  is 
really  delicious,  not  oily  like  that  made  from 
chicken,  but  somehow’  clean  and  smooth,  like 
warm  w ine. 

In  addition  to  the  aforementioned  delicacy, 
we  had  bamboo  shoots,  birds’  nests,  pickled 
onions,  what,  for  w’ant  of  a nicer  term,  I shall 
call  deteriorating  eggs  (for  these  last  one  has 
to  acquire  a taste),  a delicious  bacon  sw’eetened 
in  syrup,  and  a veritable  host  of  smaller 
dishes.  Tea,  of  course,  w’as  brought  in  first. 
And  then  followed  watermelon  seeds.  I can 
fancy  if  w’atermelon  seeds  were  hors  d’oeuvre 
that  one  w'ould  have  to  eat  a bushel  of  them 
to  w’het  the  palate.  I used  to  sit  wdth  quite 
childish  admiration  in  the  private  restaurants 
watching  the  geisha  girls  manipulate  these 
seeds.  It  w’ould  seem  that  they  w^ere  able  to 
keep  a constant  stream  of  them  passing  into 

37 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


their  mouths.  They  served  a purpose,  however. 
Whenever  conversation  lagged  one  could  always 
busy  oneself  with  a seed.  I found  that  under 
propitious  circumstances  I could  eat  about 
three  an  hour.  Husking  a dried  watermelon 
seed  with  the  teeth  is  an  art  beside  which  the 
use  of  chopsticks  is  mere  child’s  play. 

I had  been  only  a little  while  in  Moukden 
before  I began  to  hear  strange  things,  among 
wdiich  the  destruction  of  girl  babies  figured 
prominently.  Ferdinand  Berteaux  should  know. 
So  I asked  him.  “Was  it  really  true I asked. 
I shall  never  forget  how  he  looked  at  me  with 
his  cold  sparkling  eyes.  Was  he  laughing  at 
my  credulity.'^  No.  For  he  bowed  his  head 
with  a certain  awful  finality,  as  if  I had  found 
him  out  in  a practice  of  which  he  would  rather 
have  me  ignorant.  Even  then  I could  not  be- 
lieve what  he  later  had  to  say.  But  his  phi- 
losophy was  overpowering.  In  the  end  he 
gained  my  consent. 

“You  see,”  he  said,  “there  is  no  alternative 
in  a civilization  such  as  this.  It  is  man  made, 
and  it  has  gone  man  mad.  A father  finds  that 
he  has  brought  more  mouths  into  the  world 
than  he  has  food  to  feed.  What  can  he  do  but 
destroy.?  And  having  determined  on  destruc- 
tion, whom  shall  he  kill?  Obviously  w^hat  he 
conceives  to  be  the  passive  principle  in  life, 

38 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  negative  rather  than  the  positive.  And 
this  he  takes  to  be  woman,  merely  because  she 
is  passive,  as  all  the  world  knows;  passive  so 
long  as  her  mate  pursues  her,  but  becoming 
pursuer  the  moment  he  slackens  his  attention. 
And  so  the  little  girls  have  had  to  go.  It  is 
unfortunate,  but  it  is  inevitable.  Of  preven- 
tion they  have  no  knowledge.  All  their  rem- 
edies are  curative.  After  all,  is  the  seed  more 
precious  than  the  fruit,  in  the  Deity’s  eyes,  I 
mean?”  Thus  spake  Ferdinand  Berteaux. 

Still  it  seemed  utterly  without  the  bounds  of 
imagination.  So  the  consul  invited  me  to  stay 
at  his  home  for  an  evening.  The  consulate 
was  wdthin  sight  of  the  Temple  of  Fertility. 
Here  unfortunate  mothers  might  bring  un- 
fortunate children,  deposit  them,  and  slink 
away  in  the  darkness.  Hardly  were  they  gone 
before  gaunt  forms  rose  up  from  the  dark 
places  of  the  streets.  The  dogs  were  ravenous 
as  wolves.  They  were  wont  to  feed  on  their 
own  kind.  Why  should  they  hesitate  to  feed 
on  human  flesh? 

It  chanced  to  be  a beautiful  night.  The 
consulate  was  on  the  outskirts  of  the  eastern 
part  of  the  city.  Just  beyond  stretched  the 
open  country.  The  Manchurian  moon  stood 
high  in  the  cobalt  heavens.  The  brown 
expanse  of  the  farmlands  was  dotted  with 

39 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


graves,  multitudinous  conical  mounds  heaped 
with  red  earth  that  glittered  strangely  in 
the  moonlight.  The  city  was  apparently 
asleep.  After  a time  (we  were  sitting  in  the 
consul’s  luxuriant  garden)  the  mystery  of  the 
night  commenced  to  work  its  will.  I felt  tired 
and  heavy,  like  one  who  is  surfeited  with  rich 
foods.  The  consul  told  me  to  go  and  lie  down 
a while.  He  had  writing  to  do.  He  w’ould 
call  me  when  I should  come.  A servant  was 
posted,  watching  the  Temple  of  Fertility. 

The  magic  of  the  Oriental  night  was  still  in 
the  air  when  dawn  streaked  the  vaulted  blue 
with  her  roseate  finger.  The  consul  had 
aroused  me.  We  went  through  the  gardens, 
following  in  the  tread  of  a servant  who  was 
clothing  himself  as  he  walked.  When  w’e 
reached  a corner  of  the  garden  the  native 
separated  the  hedge  with  his  fingers  and 
pointed  silently  at  a figure  crouching  before 
the  little  shrine.  It  was  difficult  to  make  out 
the  sex  of  this  person.  But  from  the  manner 
in  which  the  white-swathed  bundle  lay  in  arms, 
we  guessed  that  it  was  a woman. 

She  deposited  the  bundle  lightly  on  the 
cold  stone  and  hastened  away.  All  was  as 
silent  as  death  for  a moment,  or  perhaps  it 
was  much  more  than  a moment.  Then  a 
little  wail  broke  on  our  ears,  low  and  pene- 

40 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


trating  like  the  gurgle  of  falling  water.  A 
gaunt  shadow  rose  up  from  the  opposite  wall 
and  slunk  templewards,  seeking  with  terrible 
certainty  its  human  prey. 

Perhaps  Ferdinand  Berteaux  anticipated  some 
desperate  action  on  my  part,  for  I felt  his 
long  flexible  fingers  tighten  on  my  arm.  But 
this  did  not  prevent  me  from  drawing  my 
blue  steel  pistol  from  my  pocket  and  taking 
a cool  deliberate  aim  at  the  shadow  now 
almost  directly  opposite.  The  consul  had  no 
intimation  of  this.  The  pistol  cracked  pleas- 
antly on  the  still  night  air;  the  shadow  reared 
itself  with  a barely  audible  whine  of  pain  and 
fell  limply  down.  In  another  moment  I had 
gone  over  the  hedge  and  was  stooping  near 
the  little  bundle  in  white.  We  must  have 
made  a remarkable  group:  the  shrine,  myself, 
and  the  child.  I could  see  nothing  distinctly. 
I only  felt  warmth  and  movement  against 
my  hands. 

The  consul  chuckled  a sort  of  desperate 
chuckle  when  I lifted  the  bundle  towards  him 
over  the  hedge.  “Ze  prenez!”  he  said  to  his 
native.  And  when  I felt  the  barely  perceptible 
weight  gone  from  me  I snaked  myself  into  the 
garden.  I was  flushed  with  the  exultation  of 
victory,  though  I almost  immediately  hung  my 
head  as  if  ashamed  for  what  I had  done. 

41 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“It  will  cost  you  twenty-five  dollars,”  the 
consul  said  with  a mock  seriousness. 

“Twenty-five  dollars.?”  I echoed,  with  all 
the  breath  I then  had  at  my  command. 

“The  mission  will  take  it  for  that  amount, 
and  keep  it  and  clothe  it  and  feed  it,  and 
finally  turn  it  into  the  world  again  to  be 
married  and  beaten.” 

I could  say  nothing,  so  the  consul  went  on. 

“Yes,  for  a time,  even  the  mission  folk 
stationed  a man  near  here  to  do  as  you  have 
done.  But  money  is  not  illimitable  nor  is  the 
capacity  of  houses.  I,  who  do  not  believe  in 
such  things,  am  already  supporting  ten.  But 
you  will  not  do  it  again.  You  will  learn  to 
avoid  such  sights.  In  China  sights  act  like 
fits  of  anger.  They  ruin  one’s  temperament.” 

What  the  consul  said  was  only  too  true. 
But  I deposited  my  little  girl,  who,  by  the 
way,  was  blind  (an  essential  cause  of  her 
abandonment),  with  the  good  mission  folk 
who  perhaps  may  find  a better  use  for  her 
than  turning  her  back  to  her  own. 

And  from  that  day  on  I did  avoid  sights, 
though  in  China  one  cannot  help  seeing  things. 
But  though  I was  later  to  see  men  chivied  by 
tigers,  I don’t  think  anything  quite  affected 
me  the  way  the  sight  at  the  Temple  of  Fer- 
tility did.  It  was  experience,  and  it  brought 

42 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


to  iny  mind  an  all  too  sober  truth.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  was  not  altogether  unreasonable. 
Necessity  is  often  a cruel  teacher,  and  nowhere 
more  uncompromising  than  in  the  Middle 
Kingdom,  where  life  is  cheap,  and  where  a 
man  has  not  earned  a right  to  it  until  he  is 
ready  to  lay  it  down. 

I must  thank  Ferdinand  Berteaux  for  many 
things,  unpurchasable  gifts,  as  it  were.  But 
I must  thank  him  particularly  for  introducing 
me  to  the  niceties  of  food.  Because  I acquired 
a taste  for  edible  extravaganzas  I made  prog- 
ress with  the  language.  And  because  I made 
progress  with  the  language  I became  intimate 
w'ith  the  people.  And  w’hat  connection,  pray, 
has  eating  with  talking.^  The  answer  is 
universally  applicable.  Both  practices  loosen 
the  tongue. 

But  it  was  not  in  restaurants  of  the  more 
obvious  type  that  I passed  my  leisure  evening 
hours.  Our  commissioner  had  already  told  us 
that  women  speak  more  intelligibly  than  men. 
If  you  would  talk  accurately,  he  said,  seek 
the  women  and  little  children.  The  children 
were  seldom  unafraid.  So  I,  generally  in 
company  with  Serruys,  sought  the  singing 
girls. 

The  Geisha  Girl,  as  she  is  prettily  termed  in 
Japan,  is  a much  misunderstood  little  woman. 

43 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Her  art  is  solely  that  of  dispensing  light 
entertainment.  Her  soul  remains  always  un- 
touched. It  is  as  if  she  revolved  about  her- 
self, permitting  the  eyes  of  men  only  a fleeting 
glance  of  her  clean  heart.  I have  yet  to  see 
any  one  except  a drunken  foreigner  insult  one 
of  these  butterflies  of  the  East;  and  on  this 
occasion  the  little  thing  turned  to  him  and 
said  through  her  frightened,  trembling  lips, 
“You  must  not  drink  any  more,  master.  You 
are  not  yourself  when  you  drink.”  It  was  a 
subtle  compliment  to  the  essential  divinity  in 
man,  and  in  this  case  the  divine  in  the  man 
responded  and,  as  it  were,  electrified  him  into 
sobriety. 

My  home  was  unique,  but  I was  there,  and 
it  is  often  most  diflScult  to  keep  good  company 
with  ourselves.  The  singing  girls  afforded  an 
avenue  of  escape,  and  I cannot  refrain  from 
mentioning  that  we  brought  much  pleasure 
into  their  lives.  Besides,  the  atmosphere  in 
which  they  lived  was  thoroughly  Oriental. 
As  a foreigner  I did  not  have  access  to  the 
homes  of  the  Chinese  except  in  my  oflBcial 
capacity  as  a visitor  representing  the  great 
republic.  Then,  too,  the  charm  of  the  Orient 
has  always  been  more  or  less  of  an  under- 
ground affair.  Only  the  color  and  strangeness 
of  it  are  patent  to  the  view.  But  the  throbbing 

44 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


romance  of  life  is  buried  away  from  the  prying 
eyes  of  the  casual  looker-on.  One  soon  tires 
of  sights.  It  is  the  human  heart  that  peren- 
nially interests,  and  underneath  a seething 
sea  of  commonplace  actions  and  faces  shimmer 
the  subtler  issues  of  life. 

As  elsewhere  intimated,  a certain  wise  sage 
secretly  gave  his  sanction  to  love.  In  all 
respects  but  this,  the  Chinese  order  their  days 
with  naturalness.  Happy  that  man,  runs 
another  proverb,  who  falls  in  love  with  his 
wife.  And  this  is  the  truly  unfortunate  part 
of  it,  that  a man  and  a woman  may  be  con- 
demned to  everlasting  companionship  without 
a spark  of  affection  subsisting  between  them. 
It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Tartar  princesses, 
beautiful  proud  creatures  whose  blood  throbbed 
for  their  ideal  mates,  preferred  the  closing 
rush  of  cold  waters  to  an  existence  unutterably 
dull. 

And  so  there  is  an  undercurrent  of  romance 
that  sweeps  one  on  irresistibly,  once  one  has 
felt  its  kiss.  Husbands  seek  love  without  the 
marital  bond.  And  many  a little  girl  whose 
coming  into  the  world  was  frowned  upon  has 
lived  to  shake  an  emperor’s  throne  because 
she  was  beautiful  and  gracious  in  his  sight. 
I have  not  seen  romance  on  the  surface  but 
I have  seen  it  and  felt  it  in  the  world  of  night, 

45 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


which,  in  China,  is  not  black  with  the  wicked- 
ness of  vice,  but  colorful  and  quick  with  Jthe 
old  eternal  value  of  the  stars. 

I shall  long  remember  Mignonette  who  was 
first  pointed  out  to  me  in  the  gardens  sur- 
rounding the  old  imperial  palace.  I had  gone 
there  from  a high  sense  of  duty,  for  to  have 
resided  in  Moukden  and  not  to  have  seen  the 
ancient  home  of  the  Manchu  kings  was  in- 
deed to  have  fallen  into  historical  decrepitude. 
The  palace  was  only  a shade  less  beautiful 
than  the  palaces  of  the  Tartars  in  Peking. 
There  were  the  customary  great  stone  eourts, 
flanked  with  representations  of  an  imaginary 
animal  kingdom  but  with  none  of  the  real. 
The  expansive  yellow  roofs  swept  with  low 
wide  lines  so  that  I fancied  I could  touch  the 
eaves  of  them  until  I got  quite  near,  when 
they  curved  audaciously  upwards,  curling  just 
out  of  reach.  At  the  very  top,  on  either  end, 
a dragon  reared  its  sinuous  head,  and  eight 
little  dogs  were  pictured  as  barking  farther 
down.  From  these  the  evil  spirits  kept  a 
respectful  distance.  The  wooden  columns 
supporting  the  roof  were  variously  painted. 
Each  color  taken  alone  seemed  too  brilliant 
for  sight.  But  together  they  blended  with 
such  harmonious  confusion  that  the  result  was 
a kind  of  sensual  pleasure,  so  that  I lingered 

46 


TEMPLED  ROOF'S 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOxM 


by  them,  wondering  why  my  soul  seemed 
risen  to  my  eyes. 

Inside,  the  palaces  were  already  musty  with 
age.  It  was  an  experience  of  the  unique  to 
put  my  hand  on  the  emperor’s  throne  and 
visualize  the  terrible  monarch  sitting  there.  I 
say  terrible  because  it  would  be  his  chiefest 
delight  to  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  his 
people.  The  people  were  afraid  of  nothing  but 
devils  and  their  emperor.  Both  of  these 
agencies  had  the  power  of  death  in  their  hands; 
the  one  slow  and  uncertain,  the  other  quick 
and  sure.  ^Yherefore  the  emperor  was  more 
to  be  feared  than  the  devil.  And  in  this 
thought  he  received  his  chiefest  compensation 
for  the  monotonies  of  the  throne. 

But  what  had  Mignonette  to  do  with  all 
this?  The  venerable  gatekeeper  confided  to 
me  that  she  lingered  in  the  gardens  habitually, 
and  that  rumor  had  it  that  she  was  descended 
from  a long  line  of  imperial  favorites.  Some 
one  mentioned  the  fact  to  her  one  day,  and 
ever  since  she  has  looked  on  the  gardens  as 
peculiarly  her  own.  She  was  standing  near 
a potted  diminutive  pine  when  first  I saw  her. 
And  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  I perceived  her 
image  in  the  pool  at  whose  brink  she  paused 
before  I caught  a glimpse  of  her  own  charm- 
ing self.  The  diminutive  pine  was  set  on  the 

47 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


edge  of  the  pool.  Just  beneath  the  surface 
gold  and  silver  carp  swam  lazily  to  and  fro. 
Of  course  I had  seen  the  back  of  her  when  the 
gatekeeper  originally  told  me  who  she  was. 
But  at  her  face  I could  only  guess  and  my 
guessing  fell  short  of  the  truth. 

I saw  the  various  colors  of  her  cloak  re- 
flected in  the  nearly  opaque  water.  She  was 
costumed  in  a cherry-blossom  pink;  the  whole 
effect  of  her  dress  was  to  enhance  the  delicate 
glow  on  her  cheeks,  as  if  her  garments  were  in 
reality  white  but  had  caught  up  their  hue 
from  her  skin,  as  distant  clouds  are  tinted  by 
ones  of  deeper  hue.  She  must  have  been 
aware  of  my  presence  earlier  than  I thought, 
for  it  struck  me  that  she  smiled  through  the 
medium  of  the  water.  But  when  I smiled  in 
return,  if  it  were  in  return,  she  became  in- 
stantly serious,  seeming  solicitous  for  the  fish 
whom  she  fed  out  of  a little  silk  bag  dangling 
from  her  arm. 

I walked  quite  near  her;  she  drew  back 
from  the  edge  of  the  pool  to  let  me  pass.  But 
I signified  by  a sweep  of  my  arm  that  I had 
no  desire  to  pass.  Whereat  she  smiled  prettily, 
made  the  barest  shadow  of  a curtsy,  and  went 
on  feeding  the  gold  and  silver  carp. 

I asked  her  if  I too  might  feed  the  carp. 
I had  to  repeat  this  question  before  a complete 

48 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


sense  of  it  broke  upon  her.  She  had  not 
imagined  a man  being  so  trivially  employed. 
But  when  I insisted,  she  held  out  her  arm, 
inviting  me  by  this  aetion  to  help  myself,  as 
it  were.  This  was  the  prelude  to  a delightful 
acquaintanee.  Her  modesty,  for  she  was 
essentially  modest,  did  not  obtrude  on  me  like 
that  of  the  Chinese  women  I met  formally.  I 
suppose  her  vocation  as  singing  girl  had  given 
her  a certain  familiarity  with  men,  but  it  was 
in  no  wise  vulgar.  Then,  too,  it  w'as  my 
acquaintance  with  IMignonette  that  prepared 
me  for  an  acquaintance  with  a Tartar  princess. 
But  I liked  Mignonette  for  her  piquant 
Oriental  ways.  With  the  waving  of  a wand 
she  might  have  been  a princess.  It  certainly 
was  her  nature. 

I doubt  if  anything  could  be  more  romantic 
than  to  sit,  sometimes  recline  as  the  old 
Romans  did,  near  a little  red  lacquer  tray 
garnished  with  every  imaginable  delicacy,  lis- 
tening to  this  almond-eyed  beauty  chant  the 
folklore  of  her  people.  It  was  like  a repetition 
of  the  Arabian  Nights. 

The  room  where  I dined  to  the  music  of  her 
liquid  talk  w^as  little  and  oblong.  The  floor 
was  carpeted  with  a gray  camel’s-hair  creation 
in  the  center  of  which  a blue  dragon  lay  like 
one  drugged  to  rest  in  billowy  down.  The 

49 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


furniture  was  of  teak,  and  the  little  dais,  or 
k’ang,  which  occupied  the  farther  end  of  the 
room  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  a throne, 
was  tastefully  decorated  with  a copper  brazier 
burning  a most  delectable  incense,  and  two 
perfect  examples  of  large  cloisonne.  On  either 
side  of  the  brazier  was  stretched  a finely 
woven  straw  matting  with  a cylinder-like 
pillow  of  red  at  the  top.  A low  pearl  inlaid 
table  supported  the  brazier  and  it  was  upon 
a portion  of  this  table  that  my  food  invariably 
was  set. 

Mignonette  arranged  herself  on  the  other 
side,  and  between  plying  my  chopsticks,  I 
gazed  at  her  through  the  blue  smoke  of  the 
incense.  I could  easily  imagine  her  to  be 
some  fairy  spirit  risen  out  of  the  brazier.  She 
must  have  perceived  my  inclination  for  senti- 
ments of  this  sort.  For  she  uttered  a little 
laugh,  crisp  and  metallic,  whenever  I got  in 
this  mood,  and  always  it  recalled  me  to  myself 
and  her. 

She  wore  her  hair  parted  cleanly  in  the 
middle  with  the  long  black  plaits  coiled  in 
plaques  over  her  ears.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  suggestion  of  ornamentation  about 
her,  except  for  a pair  of  heavy  bracelets  of 
beaten  gold  which  were  fastened  about  her 
wrists  by  the  softness  of  the  metal.  Though 

50 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


I must  have  dined  with  Mignonette  dozen, 
perhaps  even  twenty  times,  I do  not  recall 
seeing  her  twice  garmented  the  same.  She 
had  an  air  of  infinite  variety,  and  even  the 
identical  songs  seemed  different  on  successive 
evenings.  I had  favorite  ones  and  we  were 
constantly  disputing  whether  she  had  sung 
the  piece  requested.  And  invariably  she 
repeated  it  slowly,  like  a nun  telling  her  beads. 

At  the  end  she  would  say,  “Now  do  you 
believe  me  or  not?” 

Selecting  an  especially  choice  morsel  for  her 
lips,  I would  answer,  “I  believe.” 


51 


CHAPTER  IV 


Why  will  people  persist  in  paying  tribute 
to  names?  Do  the  Chinese  go  to  church  on 
Sunday,  one  asks?  I can  only  answer  that  in 
China  Sunday  has  no  concern  with  the  prac- 
tices of  the  Christian  religion.  Li-pai,  the 
initial  day  of  the  week,  signifies  to  pay  a call, 
and  on  this  day  those  who  are  so  fortunate 
as  not  to  have  to  toil  clothe  themselves  in  their 
most  magnificent  raiment  and  repair  to  the 
houses  of  their  friends.  Of  course,  somebody 
stays  at  home.  But  the  matter  works  out 
logically  enough,  when  one  considers  that  the 
lesser  always  go  to  the  great, — another  instance 
of  Mahomet  seeking  the  mountain. 

But  there  are  holidays  in  which  everybody 
joins,  when  even  the  beggars  make  a pretense 
of  idling,  and  the  very  dogs  desist  from  their 
scavengerlike  activities.  The  New  Year’s  fes- 
tival continues  for  about  three  weeks,  and  dur- 
ing this  period  every  community,  be  it  great 
or  small,  blooms  like  an  American  beauty  rose. 
Red  has  always  been  a violent  color  and  indic- 
ative of  life.  And  so  I suppose  it  is  not  illogical 

52 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


that  the  Chinese  have  chosen  it  to  represent 
an  epitome  of  their  feelings. 

The  doors  are  literally  covered  with  strips  of 
scarlet  paper  on  which  various  homely  prov- 
erbs are  written.  Some  of  these  propitiate  the 
devil,  or  more  properly  devils,  while  others 
simply  ask  that  fortune  may  follow  those  who 
dwell  within.  I have  never  observed  people 
reading  these  sentiments  and  I imagine  this 
is  because  they  are  universally  known,  and 
through  constant  usage  have  fallen  into  a kind 
of  moral  desuetude.  But  they  do  serve  one 
purpose,  however;  and  this  is  to  brighten  the 
otherwise  dull  brown  and  gray  of  the  walls  and 
buildings.  In  China,  during  New  Year’s,  one 
cannot  help  seeing  red,  and  occasionally  yellow, 
which  is  the  color  of  the  dragon  and  really 
more  pleasing  to  the  eye. 

That  first  New  Year’s  festival  in  Moukden 
will  always  be  memorable  for  me  because  I 
passed  the  greater  part  of  it  in  the  open 
country.  One  of  my  colleagues,  a Japanese 
who  had  already  been  in  residence  a year  and 
was  pretty  much  of  a pilgrim,  suggested  that 
we  spend  two  or  three  days  at  T’ang  Kang 
Tzu,  a famous  bathing  hostelry  in  southern 
Manchuria.  T’ang  Kang  Tzu  is  situated  in 
the  district  made  famous  by  a number  of  skir- 
mishes preliminary  to  the  Battle  of  Moukden. 

53 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


But  even  had  there  been  no  hastily  thrown-up 
trenches  and  scarred  rocks  and  cannon-ball 
pierced  temples,  the  traveler  would  still  have 
wended  his  way  to  the  sulphur  springs.  It  was 
a rare  sight  with  the  thermometer  below  zero 
to  watch  the  little  boiling  lake  that  surrounded 
the  inn  with  an  odoriferous  mist,  while  the 
smell  of  warm  steam  formed  a sharp  contrast 
to  the  penetrating  cold  of  the  winter  air. 

We  were  surprised  to  learn  that  the  inn  was 
in  character  more  Japanese  than  Chinese,  but 
this  in  no  way  detracted  from  our  subsequent 
pleasure.  No  sooner  had  I been  assigned  my 
room  than  I quite  naturally  conceived  the 
idea  of  taking  a sulphur  bath.  To  this  end  I 
clapped  my  hands  as  loudly  as  I could  and 
was  almost  instantly  gratified  to  see  the  little 
sliding  door  move  noiselessly  back  and  a 
Japanese  girl  step  out  of  her  clogs  and  into 
my  chamber.  She  gave  me  only  a fleeting 
inconsequential  glance  and  busied  herself  with 
the  embers  of  a tiny  charcoal  brazier,  the  sole 
source  of  heat  for  the  entire  room.  She 
squatted  over  it,  warming  her  hands,  and 
occasionally  stirring  it  up.  I watched  her 
features  intently,  wondering  whether  she  had 
come  in  answer  to  the  clap  of  my  hands  or  of 
her  own  accord.  Finally  she  did  look  up  at  me,  ^ 
and,  noticing  that  I had  in  no  wise  altered 

54 


TKKKACEI)  llll.I.S  NE.Ui  t’aNG  KANG  T/.U 


FARMER  M'lTH  ODD  PLOW-MATES 


i. 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


since  her  entry  into  the  chamber,  she  suggested, 
with  rather  a complicated  motion  of  her  hands, 
that  I make  ready  for  the  bath. 

I was  so  pleased  we  had  at  last  come  to  an 
understanding  of  some  sort  that  I jauntily 
removed  my  coat.  My  shoes  were  in  the 
corridor  so  I could  not  commence  with  them. 
My  coat  I rustled  as  loudly  as  I could,  but  the 
maiden  gave  it  not  the  slightest  heed.  Then 
I removed  my  waistcoat  and  collar  and  tie, 
but  similarly  to  no  avail.  Still  she  squatted 
before  the  charcoal  brazier.  Perhaps  she  is 
waiting  until  the  fire  gets  thoroughly  going,  I 
thought.  I will  wait  a moment.  She  may  be 
lost  in  meditation.  But  the  only  effect  of  my 
arrested  movements  was  to  cause  her  to  rustle 
her  hand  in  one  of  the  flowing  sleeves  of  her 
kimono  and  bring  forth  a kind  of  calico  robe 
which  she  placed  on  the  straw  matting  about 
midway  between  us.  Noticing  that  I made  no 
move  to  take  it  up,  she  looked  at  me  quickly 
and  seemed  surprised  to  learn  that  I still  was 
conventionally  attired.  But  she  passed  no 
remark,  at  least  no  intelligible  one,  and  rec- 
ommenced warming  her  chubby  hands. 

Good  heavens,  I thought,  has  the  girl  no 
modesty?  One  of  my  colleagues  went  clacking 
by  my  door  and  hallooed  me  to  hurry  along,  as 
there  was  to  be  a sachimi  feast  directly  after 

55 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  bathing.  He  had  never  been  in  a sulphur 
bath  before  and  was  eager  to  join  the  others. 
I likewise  was  eager,  but  there  were  certain 
impediments  to  my  haste.  I could  not  help 
wondering  if  my  colleagues  had  suffered  like 
obstacles.  Perhaps  theirs  were  uglier  than 
mine  and  older  too.  But  this,  this  mere  slip 
of  a girl,  certainly  did  not  know  what  she  was 
about.  I looked  her  squarely  in  the  eyes.  No, 
she  was  mentally  alert.  There  was  about  her 
nothing  pertaining  to  the  idiot.  She  seemed 
possessed  of  all  her  faculties.  In  this  respect 
she  was  to  be  entitled  to  far  more  consideration 
than  I.  For  I doubt  if  I were  possessed  of  a 
half  of  them. 

The  end  of  it  was  that  I discreetly  slipped 
into  my  calico  robe.  Whereat  she  rose  to  her 
feet,  slid  back  the  little  paper  door,  and  bade 
me  follow  her.  There  had  not  been  a sugges- 
tion of  indecency  about  the  matter.  And  why, 
I have  often  since  asked  myself,  should  there 
have  been?  She  had  come  to  conduct  me  to 
my  bath,  and  instead  of  waiting  in  the  cold 
corridor  she  had  squatted  beside  my  fire.  I 
would  have  been  a wretch  to  turn  her  out  and 
she  would  not  have  understood  such  a sum- 
mary action. 

What  an  admirable  race  these  Japanese  are! 
Only  a little  way  back  they  were  savages. 

56 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


To-day  they  arc  civilized.  And  the  fine  part 
of  it  is  that  they  have  retained  the  best 
qualities  of  the  savage.  Nothing  pliysieal 
startles  them.  They  are  the  only  race  making 
a pretense  to  civilization  who  has  not  mixed 
its  drinks.  This  is  one  of  the  sources  of  their 
strength.  Poor,  nearly  effete,  supercivilized 
China  has  wandered  away  from  nature,  and 
nature  has  exacted  a heavy  penalty  from  her 
But  this  little  girl  w'as  as  natural  as  a flower, 
and  not,  therefore,  less  charming. 

The  bath  was  a large  Roman  affair  with  a 
series  of  steps  leading  down  to  the  water,  and 
a number  of  stone  pedestals  with  straw  cush- 
ions on  the  tops  of  them  served  as  depositories 
for-  our  robes.  My  companions  were  already  as 
red  as  salmon.  For  the  sulphur  water  is 
merely  piped  from  the  lake  into  the  bath  and 
it  usually  takes  the  novice,  depending  on 
whether  he  slips  or  not,  from  twenty  minutes 
to  an  hour  to  become  fully  immersed.  One 
end  of  the  bath  was  reserved  for  women  and 
children.  But,  as  fate  ran,  we  had  it  all  to 
ourselves,  though,  on  the  succeeding  days, 
when  Japanese  patrons  and  their  families  be- 
gan to  arrive  from  the  south,  we  were  a motley 
crowd,  but  none  the  less  a decorous  one. 

That  evening,  still  garbed  in  our  kimonos, 
and  with  a variety  of  pretty  serving  maids 

57 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


hovering  like  so  many  butterflies  over  our 
reclining  forms,  we  ate  our  sachimi.  The  word 
in  itself  means  a variety  of  things  to  eat. 
The  particular  pleasure  in  eating  sachimi  is 
derived  from  the  fact  of  cooking  the  food  for 
oneself.  A little  lacquer  table,  with  a small 
copper  stove  set  in  the  middle  of  it,  was 
deposited  before  each  one  of  us.  And  then 
the  serving  maids  brought  in  a multitude  of 
tiny  plates  containing  all  sorts  of  viands  and 
herbs  from  thin  juicy  portions  of  red  beef  and 
carved  chicken  to  the  succulent  bamboo  and 
tasty  eggplant.  A bowl  with  beaten  eggs  and 
a frying  pan  completed  the  equipment. 

The  method  of  cooking  was  to  place  the 
diminutive  spider  over  the  equally  diminutive 
stove,  introduce  some  fatty  substance  to  form 
a grease,  and  then  put  in  the  beef  and  chicken 
and  bamboo  sprouts  and  everything  else  in 
heterogeneous  confusion.  The  result  was  a 
highly  delectable  dish  that  afforded  some 
three  mouthfuls  of  the  backwoods  variety. 
The  bowl  of  beaten  raw  eggs  was  used  as  a 
kind  of  sauce  into  which  the  morsels  were 
dipped  and  cooled  before  committing  them  to 
their  final  oblivion.  Once  the  frying  pan  was 
emptied,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  com- 
mence all  over  again,  which  we  did  some  ten 
or  twelve  times,  when  bowls  of  rice  were 

58 


THE  CIIAKM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


bi  ought  in  and  we  took  ceremonial  leave  of 
our  repast. 

All  this  while  two  children,  who  gave  the 
appearance  of  being  animated  dolls,  so  highly 
were  they  colored  and  so  fantastically  dressed, 
entertained  us  variously.  First  they  played  on 
a sort  of  zither  and  sang,  too,  with  little 
melodious  voices,  clear  and  passionless.  After- 
wards they  went  through  a kind  of  panto- 
mimic show  which  exactly  fitted  their  natures 
and  their  costumes.  There  was  something 
excessively  incongruous  about  the  whole  affair. 
I could  not  help  feeling  that  they  might  much 
better  have  been  at  home  with  their  mothers 
or  else  in  school,  instead  of  treading  so  young 
the  primrose  path  of  glory.  But  the  little 
women  were  quite  unmindful  of  their  tender 
years.  A sober  responsibility  shone  about 
their  painted  features,  and  when  I smiled  at 
them  they  did  not  giggle  foolishly  in  return, 
but  simply  bowed  their  heads  as  artists  will 
who  acknowledge  merited  applause. 

T’ang  Kang  Tzu  is  some  hundred  miles  to 
the  south  of  Moukden  and  I did  not  realize 
the  differences  in  temperature  until  I returned. 
This  winter  of  the  snowless  variety  has  a 
certain  deliberate  iciness  to  it  which  chills  one 
to  the  marrow.  The  brilliancy  of  the  sun  is 
altogether  deluding.  One  fancies  one  can  go 

59 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


about  with  impunity,  and  so  one  can,  if  one 
will.  But  nature  ever  exacts  her  requital,  and 
stinging  cheeks  and  numb  ears  await  him  who 
puts  much  faith  in  appearances. 

I shall  never  forget  the  day  of  my  first 
appointment  with  my  Japanese  dentist.  It 
was  eight  o’clock  of  a cold  winter’s  morning 
that  I strode  briskly  around  the  city  walls. 
Contrary  to  custom,  there  was  a light  blanket 
of  snow  on  the  ground.  Numberless  warm 
winds  had  swept  up  from  the  sea  to  be  met  by 
equally  cold  ones  from  Siberia.  The  result  was 
a light  fall  of  snow,  and  the  city  became 
strangely  clean,  as  if  by  magic. 

Just  near  the  police  headquarters,  as  I was 
striding  by,  my  attention  was  claimed  by  the 
prostrate  figure  of  a man  who  lay  a little  to 
one  side  on  the  farther  bank  of  a ditch.  I 
went  near  out  of  a natural  curiosity  and  found 
that  he  was  alive,  though  slowly  freezing.  Of 
course  he  was  a ch’iung  jen,  a poor  man,  in 
reality  a beggar  in  the  clutches  of  a most 
noxious  habit.  I called  the  attention  of  some 
soldiers  to  him.  They  only  laughed  and  made 
a motion  with  their  hands  as  if  they  were 
about  to  inject  morphine  into  the  fleshy  parts 
of  their  arms.  they  said.  “He 

eats  morphine.”  But  even  so,  I countered, 
you  can’t  let  the  man  lie  there  and  freeze  to 

60 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


death.  But  the  soldiers  only  laughed  derisively. 
Perhaps  it  was  only  surprise  that  I,  a foreigner, 
should  have  taken  an  interest,  quite  unaccount- 
able in  their  eyes,  in  such  a low  being  as  a 
beggar.  Finally  I asked  them  what  would  be 
done  with  him.  One  of  the  soldiers,  an  officer, 
replied,  “When  he  is  dead  the  city  will  bury 
him.”  Realizing  how  powerless  I was  to  effect 
anything  against  the  traditions  of  this  people,  I 
went  my, way,  though  my  heart  beat  high  with 
a not  unrighteous  indignation. 

When  a few  hours  later  I returned,  the 
beggar  was  lying  a little  farther  up,  as  if  he 
were  seeking  the  shelter  of  the  city  walls. 
But  even  these  had  been  denied  him,  for  the 
cold  had  chilled  his  heart,  and  now  he  lay 
tliere,  his  naked  limbs  drawn  into  his  hollow 
chest,  waiting  for  the  only  service  his  city  ever 
w'ould  do  him.  An  old  official  told  me  that  a 
thousand  beggars  froze  in  the  streets  of 
Moukden  during  a particularly  severe  winter. 
On  hearing  this  I was  tempted  to  hate  them 
all,  but  on  further  reflection  I could  only  come 
to  the  point  at  which  most  of  the  older  foreign 
residents  long  since  had  arrived:  namely,  that 
such  is  life  in  China,  and  that  to  alter  it  you 
first  must  change  the  course  of  ancient  history. 

But  if  the  fate  of  the  beggar  was  a distaste- 
ful affair,  that  of  my  cook  was  eminently 

61 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  ETNGDOM 


more  pleasing.  I came  home  one  day  to  find 
a substitute  in  the  kitchen.  Now  in  a land 
where  service  is  cheaper  than  silver  one  soon 
gets  accustomed  to  having  things  done  in  a 
certain  manner,  the  meat  at  one’s  table  not 
excepted.  So  when  I noticed  that  the  food 
was  not  as  it  used  to  be,  I demanded  an 
explanation  from  the  chief  servant,  or  boy,  as 
he  is  more  familiarly  termed.  This  particular 
kiian-shih-ti,  or  housekeeper,  spoke  very  broken 
English,  but  he  was  understandable,  so  I 
always  conversed  with  him  in  my  vernacular. 

“What  this  mean.^”  I asked.  “Number  one 
cook  go  away.  Kitchen  now  belong  very 
much  number  two.  I no  savvy  this  food.” 
“Cook  wife  make  him  present  number  one 
girl,”  my  boy  replied.  “Cook  all  time  say 
wife  no  belong  home.  All  time  go  foreign 
mistress,  sew,  clean  house,  wash  babies.  Cook 
wife  say  must  go,  plenty  money  belong  foreign 
mistress  side.  Cook  say  wife  belong  home  side. 
Wife  no  wanchee  stay  home  side.  Cook  get 
angry  beat  v'ife.  So  wife  say  allight,  you 
wanchee  wife,  I pay  you  girl.  So  wife  pay 
cook  number  one  girl.  Cook  stay  home  one 
two  day  see  girl  belong  fit,  no  belong  fit.” 
“You  mean  to  tell  me,  kuan-shih-ti,  that 
my  cook’s  wife  bought  him  a girl.^” 

“Yes,  he  wife  buy  him  girl.” 

62 


BKONZE  INCENSE  BURNER  AT  LAMA  TEMPLE 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“And  how  much  did  she  pay?” 

“Cook  no  speak  price  fashion.  Number  one 
girl  belong  twelve  fifteen  dollars.” 

“But  I should  think  the  cook’s  wife  would 
belong  jealous.” 

“No  belong  jealous.  Wife  he  go  foreign 
mistress  side,  make  plenty  money.  Cook  he 
say  wife  belong  home  side.  Cook  wife  no 
belong  fit.  What  can  do?  Cook  wanchee 
wife,  so  wife  pay  him  number  one  girl.  Now 
all  belong  fit.  Allight.” 

As  my  kuan-shih-ti  persisted  in  this  version 
of  affairs,  and  as  my  food  persisted  in  being 
very  much  number  two,  I decided  to  take 
matters  by  the  horns  the  very  next  day.  So  in 
the  morning  I sought  my  cook.  He  lived 
in  a fairly  respectable  part  of  the  city.  His 
house  contained  three  or  four  rooms,  so  I 
could  easily  understand  why  he  should  insist 
on  having  some  one  to  keep  them  tidy  for  him. 

Let  it  be  understood  that  to  cook  for  a 
foreigner  is  a very  great  opportunity  indeed. 
“Squeeze,”  that  Chinese  custom  immemorially 
old,  is  practiced  with  rare  diligence  by  cooks. 
It  is  a custom  to  which  every  foreign  mistress 
must  sooner  or  later  submit.  For  although 
she  may  take  her  basket  on  her  arm  and  go 
forth  into  the  smelly  places  of  the  city,  she 
will  find,  much  to  her  chagrin,  that  the  butcher 

63 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


has  “squeezed”  her.  Even  though  the  price 
seems  ridiculously  low  to  her  foreign  way  of 
thinking,  she  is  bound  to  realize  that  to  the 
native  it  is  a number  of  coppers  lower.  MTien 
she  returns  her  cook  will  ask  her,  “How  much 
Missy  pay  this  piece?”  And  then  the  old 
cook  will  smile  and  say,  “Oh,  too  much,  too 
much.”  So  the  Missy  finally  gives  in  and  the 
cook  pockets  a half  of  the  difference. 

For  this  reason  my  cook  lived  in  style  and 
thought  he  could  afford  to  inflict  on  me  a 
substitute.  I found  him  smoking  a long  pipe 
just  inside  the  devil  screen.  The  devil  screen 
is  a detached  piece  of  masonry,  like  a wall, 
in  front  of  the  door.  Any  stray  devil  will  thus 
be  deflected  from  entering  the  house,  for  it  is  a 
fact  well  known  to  anthropomorphical  science 
that  devils  alw^ays  travel  in  straight  lines  and 
parallel  to  the  earth.  My  cook  w^as  sitting  on 
the  lea  side  of  the  devil  screen, — which  is 
quite  necessary  with  a number  one  girl  in  the 
offing. 

He  must  have  been  disagreeably  perturbed 
to  see  me,  but  wath  true  Chinese  simplicity  he 
did  not  manifest  the  same.  He  slowly  knocked 
the  ash  from  his  pipe,  giving  at  the  same  time 
a little  guttural  cry  as  if  he  were  clearing 
his  throat.  It  was  what  native  mothers  said 
to  their  children  when  foreigners  came  by. 

64 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Freely  translated  that  cry  said,  “Make  your- 
self scarce.” 

“Aren’t  you  well,  cook?”  I asked. 

Perhaps  he  had  not  been  thinking  of  feign- 
ing until  I gave  him  this  lead.  If  so,  I must 
apologize  for  doing  him  a wrong.  If  I sug- 
gested to  him  that  he  be  false  I am  Iieartily 
sorry  for  it.  He  had  already  risen  halfway  from 
his  seat  with  alacrity.  I took  special  note  of 
this,  for  having  eleven  servants  had  made  me 
unduly  perspicacious.  But  the  other  half  of 
the  distance  from  a sort  of  incipient  recum- 
bency to  erectness  was  covered  slowly,  and 
with  a suggestion  of  distress  quite  overpower- 
ing. 

“Belong  stiff,  very  stiff,”  the  cook  said 
finally. 

“That’s  too  bad,  cook,”  I answered,  “for 
I’ve  come  to  tell  you  this  number  two  business 
is  no  good.  I must  let  your  substitute  go. 
Will  you  recommend  a cook  in  your  place?” 

“No  belong  that  fashion  quick,  master. 
Leg  he  soon  belong  more  better.  Maybe 
to  morrow  I come  back.” 

“No,  cook,  to-morrow  is  too  far  away.  How 
much  do  I owe  you?” 

“Allight.  Must  cook,  must  cook.  Wife  he 
all  time  go  foreign  side.  Dirt  everywhere. 
What  can  do?” 


65 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Why  don’t  you  hire  a girl,  cook,  to  keep 
your  house  tidy  while  your  wife’s  away?” 

Kuan-shih-ti  talk  too  much.  You  know? 
Allight.  Belong  Chinese  fashion  pay  girl, 
suppose  wife  no  stay  home.  I come  now.” 
Whereat  the  cook,  not  one  whit  chagrined  at 
having  made  a partial  fool  of  himself,  called 
out  for  some  one  to  bring  Jiim  his  hat.  In 
another  instant  a rosy-cheeked  Chinese  girl, 
gayly  attired,  appeared  in  the  doorway.  She 
could  not  have  been  above  sixteen  years  of  age, 
though  she  was  quite  womanly  withal.  Had 
she  been  married,  her  hair  would  have  been 
built  up  in  the  customary  manner.  But  as 
she  was  still  a virgin,  she  wore  it  in  one  thick 
shiny  braid  down  her  back.  A little  piece  of 
red  string  had  been  plaited  into  the  end  of  the 
braid,  so  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  her  status, 
for  a piece  of  red  string  at  the  end  of  a braid 
denotes  the  maiden. 

At  sight  of  me  she  paused,  for  she  was  as  yet 
unaccustomed  to  her  master,  not  to  mention  a 
foreign  stranger,  who  in  the  vernacular  was 
racily  termed  a devil.  But  the  cook  did  not 
tolerate  maidenly  modesty.  Perhaps  in  his 
eyes  it  was  not  among  the  original  virtues.  So 
he  cried  out  the  single  word,  ^'Lai-come,"  and 
she  came  toward  us,  tripping  lightly  along 
with  the  cook’s  foolish  hat,  an  old  soft  one  of 

66 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


mine,  in  her  hand.  In  another  instant  we  had 
passed  to  the  street  side  of  the  devil  screen  and 
left  the  young  lady  wonderingly  alone. 

Perhaps  she  thought  her  master  wanted  to 
be  rid  of  lier,  and  that  I was  a prospective 
customer.  I never  saw  her  again,  though 
invariably,  whenever  I met  the  cook  out  of  the 
kitchen,  I inquired  for  his  number  one  girl. 

“Still  belong  fit?”  I would  ask. 

‘*IIsing-ah — can  do,”  he  flippantly  would 
reply. 


67 


CHAPTER  V 


The  fourth  of  July  broke  on  me  quite  un- 
expectedly one  morning.  It  is  strange  that 
I should  not  have  been  looking  forward  to 
it;  strange  when  one  considers  that  the  bulk 
of  the  paraphernalia  of  the  noisiest  days  of 
our  youth  came  from  this  fairyland  over  the 
sea.  But  the  best  firecrackers  have  always 
remained  in  China.  Never  have  I heard  such 
terrific  explosions  as  these  veritable  small  can- 
non made.  Of  course  the  Chinese  do  not 
celebrate  the  glorious  fourth.  But  then  the 
natives  are  always  celebrating.  In  this  in- 
stance, however,  it  was  an  American  col- 
league who  started  the  affair.  And  the  rest 
of  the  Europeans  almost  immediately  joined 
in,  quite  to  the  delight  of  the  venders  of  small 
explosives,  for  we  were  extremely  prodigal 
of  noise. 

The  best  of  the  lot  was  a cracker  which 
went  off  twice,  and  the  beautiful  feature  of 
the  thing  was  that  you  never  knew  where 
it  would  be  when  it  exploded  the  second  time. 
Throw  it  where  you  would,  it  would  jump, 

68 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


sometimes  fifty  feet,  to  the  most  unlikely 
places,  straight  into  the  air,  off  to  one  side, 
or  occasionally  bury  its  nose  in  the  earth. 

Our  commissioner  was  a sedate  English- 
man of  scholarly  disposition.  That  after- 
noon, while  he  was  sitting  with  perfect  aplomb 
on  the  veranda  of  the  International  Club, 
conversing  with  various  consuls’  wives,  Ever- 
hart, an  American  colleague,  playfully  and 
for  the  special  delectation  of  the  ladies,  threw 
a double  cannon  far  out,  as  he  thought,  on 
the  tennis  courts.  As  it  landed  it  went  off 
with  magnificent  volume.  Then  it  hesitated, 
wriggled  like  a worm  that  has  been  stepped 
on,  and  shot  with  remarkable  precision  straight 
for  the  commissioner’s  chair.  It  fell  at  his 
feet  and  there  it  exploded  with  every  ounce 
of  its  pent-up  fury. 

The  commissioner,  who  wore  a walrus  mus- 
tache and  looked  inordinately  like  Rudyard 
Kipling,  tipped  inelegantly  backwards.  This 
also  to  the  delectation  of  the  ladies.  And  then 
he  rose  to  his  feet,  righted  the  chair  with  a 
little  venom,  I thought,  and  said  to  my  col- 
league, who  was  on  the  point  of  laughing  but 
didn’t  quite  know  if  it  would  be  in  order, 
“Everhart,  you’re  an  ass.” 

Everybody  heard  it  and  the  bulk  of  us  con- 
curred. 


69 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


But  in  a way  I was  secretly  glad.  For  when 
Everhart  first  came  to  Moukden  and  was 
paying  the  commissioner  an  initial  call,  the 
latter,  in  discussing  the  study  of  the  language, 
said,  “You  may  find  some  difficulty  in  under- 
standing the  text  at  first.  You  know  it’s 
written  in  English.” 

That  night  within  the  precincts  of  the  old 
palace  we  let  forth  a bedlam  of  noise.  When 
the  cannon  crackers  gave  out  we  resorted 
to  shotguns  and  small  arms.  Every  win- 
dow— they  were  mostly  paper  ones — was  shat- 
tered by  the  concussion.  When  the  affair 
was  at  its  zenith  I heard  a tumultuous  knock- 
ing at  the  gate.  Opening  it,  I found  a regi- 
ment of  soldiery  crowding  through  the  nar- 
row street.  Heavy  is  the  head  that  wears 
a crown!  Poor  little  Chang  Tso-lin  thought 
the  city  was  being  attacked,  so  with  true  Na- 
poleonic strategy  he  had  become  the  aggres- 
sor. I explained  what  the  noise  signified, 
and  the  officer  was  gracefully  making  me 
a bow  when  a double  cannon  exploded  over 
our  heads  and  hurtled  into  the  mass  of  soldiers 
to  tell  its  second  story.  In  the  confusion  that 
followed  I shut  and  doublebarred  the  gate. 
How  we  regretted  firing  all  our  double  can- 
non so  early  in  the  evening! 

The  bulk  of  my  holidays  were  spent  at 

70 


EMPEROR:?  TOMR:^,  MOIKDEN 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  Manchu  tombs.  I rode  thither  on  one 
or  another  of  my  ponies,  my  servant  follow- 
ing with  guns  and  wines  and  various  edibles. 
To  reach  the  little  north  gate  I had  to  cross 
the  city,  and  this  was  ever  a matter  of  con- 
cern, for  my  pony  had  a most  objectionable 
habit  of  tossing  his  head,  and  frequently  he 
knocked  down  a man.  Once  down,  the  man 
would  remain  excessively  inanimate,  w'ith  one 
eye  squinting,  how’ever,  until  I produced  the 
necessary  silver.  All  humans  like  to  be  bene- 
factors. And  whenever  I went  to  the  Manchu 
tombs  I invariably  raised  a dozen  people  from 
the  dead.  But  it  became  so  costly  that  I 
had  to  discontinue  crossing  the  city  while 
astride.  I have  often  wondered  if  my  Chinese 
pony  was  in  conspiracy  with  his  own  people 
against  me. 

Before  reaching  the  emperors’  tombs  I was 
frequently  reminded  of  my  destination  by 
the  sight  of  numerous  mounded  graves.  There 
are  graves  everywhere  in  China.  One  au- 
thority with  a genius  for  figures  calculated 
that  a twelfth  of  the  arable  soil  is  given  over 
to  the  repose  of  the  dead.  Suffice  it  to  re- 
mark in  passing  that  one  of  the  chief  obsta- 
cles to  railway  enterprise  in  the  Middle  King- 
dom is  dead  men’s  bones.  Point  your  finger 
where  it  listeth  and  it  must  designate  a grave; 

71 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


and  graves  are  sacred,  for  the  dead  are  more 
knowing,  because  closer  to  devils,  than  the 
living.  They  must  be  propitiated.  Long  live 
the  dead! 

Before  I came  to  the  Manchu  tombs  I passed 
our  little  golf  course,  which  is  an  affair  of  nine 
holes.  One  of  these  holes  is  known  as  the 
“grave,”  and  another  as  the  “skeleton.”  The 
grave  hole  is  just  that;  an  open  grave  with 
the  oblong  box  very  much  in  evidence.  The 
skeleton  hole  is  just  that  also.  Many  times 
I have  deftly  recovered  a 31  Dunlop  ball  which 
lay  where  once  had  pulsed  a human  heart. 
Irreverent,  you  suggest.  No,  gentle  reader, 
I was  never  that.  I always  made  a point  of 
putting  the  ribs  back  exactly  where  I found 
them. 

The  approach  to  the  Manchu  tombs  is  one 
of  the  never-fading  beauties  of  northern  China. 
Imagine  a desolate  country, — the  bare  brown 
soil  stretching  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 
A thousand  years  has  it  been  denuded,  for 
the  need  of  humans  for  warmth  is  more  im- 
perative than  the  desire  of  the  eye  for  a pleas- 
ing landscape.  But  here  the  trees  are  not 
cut  down.  It  is  as  if  the  people  intuitively 
knew  that  the  souls  of  the  dead  were  fragile 
diffident  things  that  wanted  shelter  from  the 
gaze  of  a toil-worn  world.  The  tombs  of  China 

72 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


arc  its  most  magnificent  parks,  its  museums, 
its  architectural  relics. 

First  came  smooth  slopes  that  from  a dis- 
tance looked  like  closely  shaven  lawns.  There 
was  a little  one-arch  bridge  over  a stream 
fed  by  a tiny  lake  that  ranged  along  one  side 
of  the  road  leading  to  the  tombs.  The  road 
was  flanked  with  Chinese  pines,  their  twisted 
branches  like  writhing  arms  supplicating 
heaven.  At  equal  distances  strange  stone 
creatiu’es  reared  themselves  out  of  the  long 
grass,  and  I was  not  content  till  I rode  out 
one  evening  by  moonlight  when  I could  im- 
agine them  animate,  and  very  terrible  they 
seemed. 

A quarter  of  a mile  away,  glittering  just 
over  the  tree  tops,  I discerned  the  roofs  of 
the  tombs,  but  it  was  not  until  I got  near 
them  that  they  broke  on  me  with  all  the  riot- 
ousness of  their  Oriental  splendor.  Upon  the 
roofs  of  temples  and  tombs  and  palaces  the 
Chinese  have  lavished  the  entire  wealth  of 
their  creative  imaginations.  The  roofs  of  Foi- 
ling, the  north  tombs,  are  mostly  of  yellow 
tile,  and  it  is  difficult  to  appreciate  the  rich 
beauty  of  them  rising  over  the  tops  of  the 
pines.  The  buildings  comprising  the  tombs 
are  surrounded  by  a red-washed  wall  that 
dips  into  little  ravines  and  surmounts  tiny 

73 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


hills,  seeming  always  to  flow  like  a river  of 
sheer  color. 

The  resting  place  of  the  Manchu  king  is 
beneath  a huge  mound  of  earth  faced  with 
mortar.  It  must  have  taken  innumerable 
hands  to  raise  this  mound  alone.  The  old 
gatekeeper  led  me  to  the  iron  doors  of  the 
tomb  and  asked  if  he  should  recount  the  tale 
of  the  royal  interment.  I put  a silver  half 
dollar  in  the  palm  of  his  outstretched  hand 
and  told  him  to  go  ahead.  Whereat  he  re- 
counted a truly  marvelous  tale  of  the  Orient 
of  old. 

The  king  had  been  buried  in  great  state. 
His  wife  and  numerous  concubines  had  wept 
so  copiously  that  their  tears  ran  into  the  secret 
places  of  the  earth,  finally  to  bubble  up  an 
hundred  years  later  in  the  form  of  the  little 
lake  outside  the  tomb.  Jewels  of  immense 
value  were  sent  by  God’s  representative  on 
earth,  the  great  Dalai  Lama  himself,  and 
these  were  buried  with  the  emperor.  All  his 
gold  and  silver  plate  was  interred  with  un- 
precedented pomp  and  pageantry.  And  finally 
the  great  teak  coffin  itself,  with  the  mortal 
remains  of  the  king,  was  borne  through  the 
courtyard  and  into  the  presence  of  the  royal 
family  who  with  one  accord  did  their  lord  a 
final  obeisance. 


74 


C'OKKIN  HOUNK  TllUOrcill  STUKET 


BUDDHIifT  PRIESTS  INTONING  FOR  THE  DEAD 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  coffin  was  borne  by  eighty  men  who 
walked  with  it  into  the  very  bowels  of  the 
earth.  Hardly  had  the  cover  of  the  sarcoph- 
agus been  set  in  place  before  the  iron  doors 
closed  forever  and  eighty  poor  humans  who 
had  never  done  anyone  harm  were  entombed 
with  their  king.  It  was  the  old  story  of  “dead 
men  tell  no  tales.”  The  royal  family  were 
unwilling  to  trust  the  knowledge  of  the  jewels 
to  anyone  outside  their  circle.  So  they  had 
given  the  order  that  the  coffin  bearers  be  en- 
tombed alive. 

I could  not  help  but  look  on  this  monu- 
mental grave  with  a shudder  to  think  of  the 
awful  struggle  that  had  taken  place  within.  I 
could  picture  the  unfortunate  wretches  beat- 
ing in  vain  against  the  unyielding  panels  of 
the  door.  There  must  have  gone  up  a sor- 
rowful shriek  to  heaven.  And  I could  imagine 
the  royal  family,  the  almond-eyed  princesses 
no  doubt  turning  tearfully  away,  pausing  to 
listen  to  the  abating  tumult.  For  eighty 
men  are  a great  number  in  a little  place.  The 
hole  of  Calcutta  w’as  nothing  w’hen  compared 
to  this,  and  yet  this  was  nothing  wffien  com- 
pared to  the  Mongol  prisons. 

I have  looked  with  mist-covered  eyes  into 
the  face  of  what  once  had  been  a man.  Poor 
fellow,  he  had  committed  a petty  thievery, 

75 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


for  which  he  was  sentenced  to  prison  for  the 
space  of  fifteen  years.  Had  it  been  an  ordi- 
nary prison  he  might  have  come  out  a man, 
but  in  this  instance  it  were  better  had  the 
punishment  been  capital.  He  was  shut  into  a 
box  too  short  to  permit  his  lying  extended  and 
too  low  for  him  even  to  sit  erect.  A diamond- 
shaped  hole  was  cut  in  the  side  of  the  box 
and  this  was  all  the  means  of  ventilation  and 
light  he  had.  When  I peered  into  his  flash- 
ing eyes,  for  all  his  energy  was  gathered  in 
his  eyes,  he  had  been  imprisoned  only  seven 
years.  His  limbs  were  atrophied.  He  had 
become  a mere  automaton,  a mockery  of  na- 
ture. I wanted  to  speak  with  him  but  I did 
not  know  his  tongue,  so  I merely  smiled,  for 
I thought  he  would  rather  that  I smile  than 
do  anything  else.  And  I shall  always  remem- 
ber how  his  eyes  seemed  to  soften,  as  if  he 
had  not  misinterpreted  my  meaning.  There 
was  a pitiful  whining  noise  and  I turned 
away. 

For  a thousand  years  the  burial  place  of 
the  Mongol  kings  was  unknown.  And  it  was 
only  accidentally  discovered.  With  the  dis- 
covery of  the  underground  tombs,  documents 
were  also  uncovered  pertaining  to  the  man- 
ner of  secreting  the  dead.  The  Mongols  were 
high-spirited  folk  who  paused  at  nothing.  When 

76 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


a king  died,  ten  thousand  soldiers  were  se- 
lected to  flank  the  funeral  cortege  on  either 
side  to  the  distance  of  three  miles.  Every 
human  being,  man,  woman,  and  child,  was 
shot  down  until  the  final  resting  place  was 
reached.  Here  the  king  was  entombed  and 
a thousand  wild  horses  let  loose  over  the  ground 
to  obliterate  all  trace  of  the  interment.  In 
this  manner  were  the  burying  grounds  of 
the  Kings  kept  secret. 

It  was  one  of  these  kings  or  khans  who  in 
the  thirteenth  century  conceived  the  idea  of 
crossing  the  Ural  Mountains,  subduing  Russia, 
and  thence  proceeding  to  Europe  for  pur- 
poses of  conquest  and  annexation.  Had  not 
fate  intervened  I have  little  doubt  that  the 
yellow  race  would  to-day  be  the  rulers  of  the 
earth.  But  fate  did  intervene  and  supersti- 
tion was  his  handmaiden.  A prince  of  the 
royal  blood  died,  and,  according  to  Mongol 
custom,  the  court  went  into  mourning  for 
three  years.  Whereat  the  expedition  to  Europe 
was  delayed  and  eventually  abandoned.  For 
the  king  was  grieved  at  the  death  of  his  son 
and  soon  died,  to  be  succeeded  by  one  less 
ambitious  and  virile  than  he. 

On  those  Sunday  afternoons  at  the  tombs 
I gave  up  most  of  my  time  to  shooting.  Often 
the  party  formed  rather  a considerable  crowd, 

77 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


so  we  would  have  a competition  to  see  who 
could  break  the  greatest  number  of  bottles. 
The  bottles,  supposed  to  be  pigeons,  were 
throw'n  into  the  air  by  our  servants,  but  by 
far  the  majority  of  them  dashed  themselves 
into  fragments  on  the  ground. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  parties  that  a visit- 
ing commissioner,  an  Irishman  from  Dublin, 
recounted  two  singularly  pleasing  tales.  They 
might  be  more  fitly  termed  after-dinner  stories. 
Fancy  us  seated  under  the  open  sky  within 
the  shadow  of  the  Manchu  tombs,  great  hawks 
circling  over  us  and  occasionally  swooping 
down  to  a distance  fifty  feet  above  our  heads. 
The  Irish  commissioner  sat  a little  apart  from 
the  others  and  punctuated  his  narrative  with 
frequent  sips  of  wine. 

“You  might  care  to  know  an  incident  with 
regard  to  this  vale  of  tears,”  he  said,  indicat- 
ing the  little  lake  with  a movement  of  his 
hand. 

“It  was  seven  years  ago  that  I was  out 
here  looking  for  duck  with  my  servant.  We 
were  almost  despairing  of  sighting  any  when 
I caught  a glimpse  of  three  riding  the  surface 
some  hundred  feet  from  the  shore.  Our  shot 
were  number  eight,  so  we  could  not  risk  a 
try  at  so  great  a distance.  Finally  I told  George, 
my  native  servant  named  for  the  King,  God 

78 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


bless  him,  to  wade  into  the  water  a little  way 
and  see  if  he  couldn’t  get  near  enough  to  risk 
a shot. 

“So  George  waded  in  up  to  a depth  com- 
mensurate with  the  calves  of  his  legs. 

‘“Go  in  a little  farther,  George,’  I admon- 
ished him. 

“And  George  went  in  to  a depth  commen- 
surate with  the  middle  of  his  thighs.  Still 
I would  not  let  him  risk  a shot.  The  duck 
were  restless  and  I did  not  want  to  return 
empty-handed. 

“‘A  little  farther,  George,’  I said. 

“And  George  went  in  up  to  his  middle. 
By  this  time  the  duck  were  making  concen- 
tric circles  around  themselves.  It  would  have 
been  folly  to  shoot.  So  I told  George  to  edge 
a little  closer.  The  water  was  shallow,  so 
he  was  quite  a distance  from  the  shore.  With 
this  last  exhortation  he  went  in  to  his  arm- 
pits,  his  gun  held  over  his  head.  The  duck 
were  quite  visibly  perturbed  by  now,  so  I 
implored  George  to  take  another  step  or  two. 
He  was  by  this  time  up  to  his  neck  in  water. 
When  suddenly  the  duck  raised  themselves 
as  if  to  take  wing  and  I cried  out,  ‘Lie  down, 
George,  lie  down,  or  they’ll  see  you.’ 

“And  would  you  believe  it,”  the  Irish  com- 
missioner finished,  “George  lay  down.” 

' 79 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


This  story  led  to  another  not  so  flagrantly 
humorous, 

“Sir  Wilkie  Wilkinson,”  said  the  commis- 
sioner, “was  publicly  known  to  be  excessively 
fond  of  his  wife.  He  had  not  married  until 
late  in  life  and  he  seemed  to  appreciate  this 
new-found  attachment  which  was  so  unlike 
those  he  had  previously  known  for  his  dogs 
and  ponies.  One  day  his  wife  died  and  the 
grief  of  Sir  Wilkie  was  so  great  that  he  would 
have  climbed  into  the  grave  and  been  buried 
with  her,  had  not  his  friends  prevented  him. 

“In  time,  however,  his  grief  subsided,  and 
to  the  astonishment  of  every  one  he  took 
another  wife.  Everybody  conceded  this  to  be 
an  even  more  satisfactory  match  than  the 
preceding  one.  But  like  all  delectable  things 
it  was  of  short  duration.  The  second  Lady 
Wilkinson  took  sick  and  died.  And,  remark- 
able to  relate.  Sir  Wilkie  would  have  climbed 
into  the  grave  a second  time  had  not  his  friends 
interfered. 

“For  a while  Sir  Wilkie  was  quite  inconsol- 
able. But  in  the  end  he  resumed  his  interest 
in  things  mundane,  which  was  quite  as  it 
should  have  been.  However,  his  friends  were 
not  a little  shocked  when  they  discovered 
that  he  had  made  a passing  English  tourist 
the  third  Lady  Wilkinson.  Now  I know  I 

80 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


am  straining  your  credulity  to  the  breaking 
point,  but,  would  you  believe  it,  poor  Sir  Wilkie 
had  only  been  married  to  her  six  months  when 
she  passed  over  in  a fit  of  apoplexy. 

“At  the  grave  his  friends  rather  expected 
Sir  Wilkie  to  exhibit  violent  emotion,  but 
they  did  not  think  he  would  want  to  climb 
in  again.  But  he  did.  And  then  one  of  his 
oldest  acquaintances  suggested  that  as  poor 
Sir  Wilkie  would  likely  not  survive  this  third 
and  greatest  sorrow,  they  might  as  well  let 
him  have  his  way.  Though  there  was  a diverg- 
ence of  opinion  and  no  little  reluctance  among 
his  friends,  a majority  of  them  finally  agreed 
to  allow  Sir  Wilkie  to  be  interred  with  Lady 
Wilkinson. 

“So  poor  broken-hearted  Sir  Wilkie  Wilkin- 
son climbed  into  the  grave  to  be  buried  with 
his  beloved.  And  do  you  know,”  said  the 
commissioner,  in  finishing  the  tale,  “ they  would 
have  buried  him,  if  he  hadn’t  climbed  out 
again.” 


81 


CHAPTER  VI 


When  one  morning  a captain  attended  by 
four  soldiers  presented  me  with  a huge  red 
envelope  I could  think  of  nothing  but  that 
the  little  governor  had  invited  me  to  become 
his  son-in-law.  I involuntarily  shuddered  as 
I broke  the  yellow  seal  with  the  three  charac- 
ters signifying  Chang  Tso-lin  grouped  prettily 
in  the  center.  I knew  he  had  discovered  me 
conversing  with  Li-ssu,  but  Li-ssu  was  only  a 
child  of  some  sixteen  or  eighteen  years.  To  be 
sure,  we  had  taken  a fancy  to  each  other.  I 
taught  her  odds  and  ends  of  English  nursery 
rhymes  and  she  taught  me  Chinese  funny 
stories.  One  day  I discovered  her  telling  me 
Jack  and  the  Beanstalk  and  when  I asked  her 
how  she  happened  to  know  it,  she  replied  that 
one  of  the  Tartar  princesses  had  recounted 
it  for  her  during  a sojourn  in  Peking.  Had  I 
been  a Chinese  I should  have  liked  to  marry 
Li-ssu.  She  was  beautiful;  she  was  demure;  she 
was  intelligent.  And  I must  own,  too,  that 
there  were  times  when  I even  went  so  far  in 
my  dreams  as  to  wish  I were  a native  prince 

82 


THE  CHAEM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


or  brigand  or  just  plain  cavalier,  for  there  were 
fairy  queens  a-plenty. 

But  the  huge  red  envelope  did  not  pertain 
to  little  Li-ssu.  It  was  simply  an  invitation 
from  her  fatlier  to  attend  the  annual  ceremo- 
nial worship  of  the  Lamas  of  Lhassa.  There 
are  only  tw’o  Lama  temples  in  the  Middle 
Kingdom;  one  is  at  Moukden,  the  other  out- 
side Peking.  Each  year  the  priests  journey 
down  from  Tibet,  skirting  the  Gobi  desert  on 
camels,  and  incurring  every  conceivable  danger, 
for  the  paraphernalia  of  their  rite  is  of  enor- 
mous value.  They  bring  with  them  beautiful 
jewels  and  the  most  costly  robes  and  an  almost 
infinite  amount  of  gold  and  silver  coins.  A 
foreigner  cannot  penetrate  the  holy  of  holies 
unless  he  be  invited  by  high  authority.  So  I 
was  not  unconscious  of  the  honor  done  me  by 
Chang  Tso-lin. 

By  ten  o’clock  of  the  following  morning  I 
was  crossing  the  city,  borne  almost  impercepti- 
bly along  by  the  immense  crow'd  of  natives 
who,  unlike  me,  were  bent  on  satiating  their 
consciences  as  well  as  their  curiosities.  It 
was  a gala  morning  and  reminded  me  most 
nearly  of  the  day  when  the  circus  came  to 
town  and  everyone  as  a matter  of  custom 
repaired  to  the  big  white  tent.  The  Chinese 
themselves  w’ere  not  dressed  wdth  any  particu- 

83 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


lar  degree  of  brilliancy.  The  Manchu  women 
are  more  somber  in  their  dress  than  the  south- 
ern or  Tartar  women.  Elsewhere  the  women 
lavish  attention  on  the  color  of  their  clothes. 
The  Manchu  dresses  customarily  in  blue  or 
black.  And  where  the  southern  woman  does 
her  hair  tightly  about  her  head,  with  perhaps 
two  saucer-like  plaits  covering  her  ears,  the 
Manchu  matron  gets  hers  done  up  after  the 
manner  of  a diminutive  Eiffel  Tower.  Either 
they  sleep  sitting  or  they  don’t  sleep  at  all,  for 
surely  a day  were  not  sufficient  to  erect  this 
variety  of  peaks  and  cascades  and  gables. 
Then,  too,  the  Manchu  women  have  really 
lovely  complexions  of  the  glowing  peach  va- 
riety. I could  never  conceive  of  men  being 
cannibals  until  I went  to  Moukden.  I have 
often  been  tempted  to  bite  the  cheek  of  a 
Manchu  woman  to  see  if  it  were  really  flesh 
and  blood. 

When  I arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  temple  I 
found  the  British  consul,  together  with  his 
wife  and  his  daughter,  already  there.  We 
waited  until  we  were  joined  by  the  Danish 
postal  commissioner,  the  French  and  Russian 
and  American  consuls,  and  other  dignitaries 
of  the  port,  and  then  proceeded  into  the 
courtyard,  where  we  w^ere  met  by  the  high 
priest  himself.  He  came  smilingly  to  meet  us, 

84 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


holding  up  the  hem  of  his  satin  robe  with  one 
hand  while  he  dangled  a gorgeous  peacock  fan 
with  the  other.  His  head  was  shaven  and  he 
was  fat  and  of  a rosy  countenance.  Ilis  robe 
was  for  the  most  part  yellows  but  not  brightly 
so.  Rather  w’as  the  color  rich  and  deep,  so 
that  I fancied  I could  have  buried  my  fingers 
in  the  smoothest  part  of  the  garment.  His 
shoes  w’ere  of  yellow  satin  also,  and  there 
were  heavy  gold  rings  on  his  fingers  and  an 
amber  necklace  around  his  neck,  the  necklace 
terminating  in  a large  amulet  of  purest  jade. 
He  wore  a beaten  silver  belt  around  his  waist, 
and  from  this  a string  of  polished  beads 
depended  to  within  an  inch  of  the  ground. 

The  priest  signified  that  we  should  follow’^ 
him  into  the  temple.  So  we  passed  into 
another  courtyard  crowded  with  people,  among 
them  being  a fair  sprinkling  of  priests  whose 
gorgeous  robes  afforded  a striking  contrast  to 
the  blues  and  blacks  of  the  commoners.  A 
number  of  chairs  had  been  placed  at  the  left 
of  the  altar  and  thither  w’e  w^ere  led  by  our 
priest.  He  left  us  with  another  smiling  bow 
and  took  up  his  place  in  front  of  the  biggest 
and  most  demoniacal-looking  god,  which  latter 
w^as  flanked  by  tw'o  lesser  images  only  a shade 
less  terrible  in  countenance. 

At  first  the  priest  seemed  to  be  telling  his 

85 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


beads,  but  in  the  end  he  lifted  his  head  and  let 
out  a sort  of  war  whoop  which  was  the  signal 
for  six  others,  a little  farther  back,  to  com- 
mence beating  their  kettledrums.  At  this  junc- 
ture twelve  little  boys  came  out  of  the  obscurity 
of  the  walls  twirling  brass  prayer  wheels,  con- 
trivances with  inter-revolving  cylinders  capable 
of  saying  ten  thousand  prayers  with  a single 
twist  of  the  thumb. 

I was  totally  unprepared  for  what  happened 
next,  for  I fancied  from  the  din  in  my  ears 
that  the  climax  of  the  ceremony  had  been 
reached.  But  although  the  remainder  of  the 
rite  was  less  noisy  than  the  beginning  it  was 
far  more  colorful  and  as  truly  Oriental  as 
anything  I have  seen.  Two  devils  (I  will  not 
call  them  men)  danced  out  of  opposite  ends  of 
the  altar  and  with  a skipping  step,  singularly 
childlike,  proceeded  towards  the  center  of  the 
court.  Each  of  them  carried  a baton  to  mark 
the  rhythm  of  the  dance.  When  they  reached 
the  center  of  the  court  they  stopped  their 
motion,  laid  their  batons  over  their  hearts, 
bowed  to  the  encircling  sea  of  faces,  then 
sprang  with  surprising  agility  into  the  air. 
When  they  landed  on  their  feet  again  a con- 
cealed orchestra  had  begun  to  play  and  the 
devils  took  up  their  dance. 

The  first  pair  of  devils  represented  huge 

86 


AX  AHAXDOXKI)  TKMIM.E  AT  MOIKDEX 


WHIRLING  DEVILS 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


frogs.  That  is,  they  wore  huge  masks  re- 
sembling frogs’  heads,  though  the  rest  of  them 
were  satin  robes  of  an  exquisite  purple.  After 
a little  I diseovered  that  the  devils  looked 
through  their  mouths,  which  were  open  and 
about  on  a level  with  the  eyes  of  the  men 
within.  Considering  that  neither  devil  paid 
the  slightest  heed  to  what  the  other  was 
doing,  it  was  indeed  remarkable  that  they 
danced  in  such  perfect  accord. 

They  danced  and  they  whirled  and  they 
danced,  their  batons  all  the  time  spinning 
gracefully  in  their  fingers,  one  hand  now  on 
their  hips  and  now  extended  straight  into 
the  air.  The  heat  was  frightful  and  I ex- 
pected to  see  them  collapse  much  sooner  than 
they  did.  It  w’as  like  a Spanish  bullfight. 
No  sooner  did  these  frog  devils  fall  exhausted 
to  the  ground  than  they  w^ere  carried  off  to 
make  room  for  two  tiger  devils,  who  did  a 
different  dance  and  whose  robes  were  quite 
appropriately  of  orange  and  blaek  with  tails 
to  complete  the  illusion. 

Every  now'  and  again  the  tiger  devils 
emitted  a grow'l  in  unison,  but  I could  not 
help  remarking  that  each  time  it  became 
fainted  and  fainter,  until  finally  the  tiger 
devils  tumbled  in  black  and  orange  heaps  to 
be  borne  away  and  replaced  by  deer  devils 

87 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


with  magnificent  branching  antlers.  The  deer 
devils  were  more  playful  than  their  colleagues 
had  been.  Their  dance  was  of  a distinctly 
lighter  nature,  or  so  it  seemed  to  an  onlooker 
who  was  not  in  the  glare  of  the  sun. 

But  eventually  the  deer  devils  succumbed  to 
be  replaced  by  elephant  devils  who,  according 
to  my  watch,  danced  exactly  three  minutes 
and  twenty-nine  seconds  before  their  mighty 
heads  began  to  sag.  In  another  instant  they 
looked  as  if  they  had  been  shot.  A priest  at 
my  elbow  ventured  the  information  that 
occasionally  a devil  died  and  that  it  was  a 
devil’s  greatest  aspiration  to  die  in  a dance, 
for  in  this  way  were  they  deified.  I suggested 
that  perhaps  it  would  be  more  satisfactory,  at 
least  from  the  devils’  point  of  view,  to  deify 
them  if  they  survived.  But  the  priest  simply 
folded  his  hands  and  said,  “Bm  hsing — that 
would  never  do.  ” And  I suppose  he  w^as 
right.  If  you  made  deification  too  easy  there 
would  be  little  use  in  becoming  a god.  Who 
among  us  Westerners,  I wonder,  would  vol- 
untarily die  to  achieve  the  godhead.^ 

I was  especially  interested  in  noting  what 
effect  these  ceremonies  had  on  the  populace. 
But  outside  of  the  bulging  eyes  of  numerous 
children  I could  not  discover  that  they  had 
any  effect  at  all.  There  was  a good  deal  of 

88 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


laugliing  and  talking  going  on  throughout  the 
dances,  and  I imagine  the  Chinese  thought 
that  the  rites  atoned  for  their  sins.  Of  course, 
the  natives  are  not  concerned  with  this  matter 
of  sin.  Their  civilization  is  nearer  that  of  the 
Garden  of  Eden  before  the  Fall  than  any  I 
have  yet  encountered.  On  the  other  hand  I 
could  not  help  expecting  them  to  be  a little 
more  reverential  and,  say,  less  curious.  I did 
not  expect  them  to  be  so  utterly  pagan  about 
it  as  I was.  But  even  so,  the  chief  priest 
conniv’^ed  with  me  in  my  scheme. 

I had  taken  along  my  camera  in  the  hopes 
of  getting  some  interesting,  if  not  altogether 
rare  snapshots.  But  I hadn’t  the  heart  to 
desecrate  the  ceremony  by  standing  out  from 
the  others.  By  good  chance,  however,  the 
priest  noticed  my  camera,  and  pointing  to  the 
devils,  he  signified  in  sign  language  that  I 
should  go  ahead.  So  I slunk  along  the  wall 
until  I reached  a point  opposite  the  devils.  I 
took  a variety  of  pictures.  I got  the  devils  in 
all  conceivable  postures.  Also  I photographed 
one  or  two  priests  in  gorgeous  saffron  robes. 
By  some  rare  intuitive  forethought  I reserved 
one  exposure  for  anything  else  I might  happen 
upon  in  my  rambles  around  the  temple. 
Whether  or  not  I did  wisely  I must  leave  to 
the  judgment  of  the  reader. 

89 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


After  the  dance  of  the  devils,  the  priests 
went  back  to  their  mummery  and  the  crowd, 
not  anticipating  any  new  spectacular  event, 
gradually  dispersed.  I found  myself  outside 
the  main  entrance  watching  an  old  wizened-up 
man  clean  a basket  of  oranges.  His  hands 
were  excessively  dirty  and  he  was  polishing 
the  fruit  with  a cloth  of  unequal  whiteness. 
I merely  recount  these  details  to  give  you  the 
picture.  I was  long  since  used  to  uncleanli- 
ness in  the  native. 

The  old  man  exercised  a sort  of  fascination 
over  me,  he  was  so  small  and  so  active,  so 
inordinately  like  a busy  bee  flitting  over  a 
yellow  chrysanthemum,  the  yellow  chrysan- 
themum in  this  instance  being  the  basket 
of  oranges.  I stood  riveted  to  the  ground, 
he  all  the  time  sublimely  unaware  of  my 
presence. 

I,  in  turn,  was  sublimely  unaware  of  two 
others  who  stood  a little  out  of  my  line  of 
vision  until  I heard  a sweetly  modulated 
feminine  voice  ask  some  one  if  she  were  not 
tired  of  standing.  I turned  quickly  toward 
them.  The  some  one  proved  to  be  an  old 
Manchu  lady  of  seventy  or  eighty  years  who 
was  smoking  a very  long  pipe.  She  wore  a 
long  black  coat,  the  only  articles  of  adornment 
being  her  silver  crescent-shaped  earrings  and  a 

90 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


funny  round  liat  with  two  blue  streamers 
falling  down  her  neck.  If  she  hadn’t  had  such 
an  extremely  grandmotherly  look  about  her 
she  would  have  seemed  grotesque.  It  was  odd 
that  I should  have  watched  her  so  long  before 
noting  the  owner  of  the  sweetly  modulated 
voice.  When  I did  look  at  her,  it  was  with 
somewhat  of  a start,  for  I was  not  expecting 
to  find  such  an  extravagant  type  of  beauty 
anywhere  in  China.  Good  complexions  were 
not  a rarety.  But  beauty,  in  the  Western 
sense  of  the  word,  one  seldom  happened  on. 

But  she  was  beautiful,  and  young,  and  in 
fact  everything  that  the  gods  adore.  Her 
hair  was  done  after  the  immemorial  style.  It 
needed  but  a glance  to  know  that  she  was  no 
longer  a virgin.  She  stood  with  her  hands 
under  her  outer  coat  and  she  was  looking  at 
me  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes,  rich  black 
Oriental  eyes  in  which  a wealth  of  emotion 
shimmered.  The  old  lady  was  as  stolid  as  an 
owl  and  white-cheeked  with  age.  The  young 
woman  was  the  picture  of  youth  and  freshness. 
Her  cheeks  were  high  and  her  nose  only 
slightly  spatulate.  Her  lips,  unlike  those  of 
most  Chinese  women,  were  not  straight,  but 
the  bow  of  them  was  delicately  curved  up- 
wards, and  though  they  were  full  and  sensuous, 
there  was  no  suggestion  of  pouting;  and  her 

91 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


chin  lay  under  them  with  a firm  but  unobtru- 
sive prominence. 

I said  she  was  smiling  at  me;  nor  is  it  my 
intention  to  retract  these  words.  I suppose 
the  gayety  of  the  carnival,  for  all  Chinese 
ceremonies  partake  of  the  nature  of  the 
carnival,  had  somehow  gotten  beneath  her 
skin,  making  her  tingle  for  the  new  and 
unusual.  I was  frankly  astounded  to  see  her 
smile,  but  I had  not  been  smiled  at  by  one  so 
beautiful  in  a weary  while,  so  happily  enough 
I quickly  smiled  at  her  in  return.  The  old 
lady  drew  incessantly  with  little  short  puffs 
on  her  long-stemmed  pipe. 

I had  a premonition  that  matters  would 
eventually  draw  to  a head,  which  in  this  case 
meant  that  I should  be  left  standing  there 
alone,  watching  the  wizened  man  flit  over  his 
oranges.  So  when  the  young  woman  smiled 
at  me  again  I tapped  my  camera  and  pointed 
it  toward  her,  nodding  my  head  quickly  up 
and  down  with  only  a suggestion  of  uncer- 
tainty in  my  eyes.  She  laughed  with  hers 
and  looked  significantly  towards  the  old  lady, 
as  much  as  to  say,  “If  you  can  do  it  with- 
out her  knowledge,  you  have  my  permis- 
sion.” There  was  really  nothing  more  to  be 
said,  so  I turned  my  back  on  them,  adjusted 
my  lens  for  eight  feet  and,  when  I thought 

92 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


everything  was  right,  I wheeled  sharply  around 
and  clicked  my  shutter  without  so  much  as 
even  raising  my  eyes.  It  was  the  final  exposure 
and  I immediately  turned  it  through  for  fear 
I should  forget  and  use  it  again.  The  resulting 
picture  is  the  gem  of  my  collection. 

But  the  incident  did  not  end  here.  A 
Peking  cart  stood  in  the  background,  and  in  a 
little  while  the  old  lady,  putting  her  pipe  into 
a long  bag  that  hung  at  her  waist,  walked 
over  to  it,  clambered  in  and  lay  down  for  a 
nap.  The  last  words  I heard  her  say  to  her 
granddaughter,  for  such  manifestly  was  the 
relation  between  them,  were,  ''Pieh  ts'ou — 
don’t  wander  off.”  And  the  young  woman 
replied  “Shih,"’  which  is  a word  of  assent. 

As  soon  as  the  old  lady  was  safely  tucked 
away,  the  younger  one  looked  me  frankly  in 
the  face  and  asked,  “ Te  le  mo? — did  you  get 
it.^”  And  then,  when  I told  her  I got  it, 
she  wanted  to  see  it,  and  I had  to  explain  that 
it  wasn’t  yet  ready  to  see.  I added  that  if 
she  would  tell  me  where  she  lived  I would 
send  her  a print  through  the  mail.  But  she 
answered  that  this  was  out  of  the  question. 
And  then  we  fell  into  conversation. 

“You  are  married,”  I said. 

She  looked  at  me  a little  sorrowfully,  I 
thought,  before  she  made  reply. 

93 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“What  a pity!”  she  said  finally. 

“Why  do  you  say  that.^”  I asked,  genuinely 
concerned  for  the  nature  of  her  answer. 

“I  like  you,”  she  responded  guilelessly. 

“But  you  must  love  your  husband,”  I in- 
terjected quickly. 

“It  is  not  necessary,”  she  answered,  en- 
folding her  fingers  diffidently  against  her  coat. 

“That  is  not  understandable  talk  to  me,  ’ 
I suggested. 

“I  was  only  married  to  him  a week  when 
he  went  off  to  Peking.  If  only  he  had  simply 
said  good-by  and  gone,  but  he  spoke  many, 
many  words  of  explanation,  and  his  letters 
are  all  explanation  why  he  does  not  return. 
His  is  understandable  talk.  He  loves  another 
woman.  ” She  pouted  when  she  spoke  this 
last  and  her  mouth  was  prettier  than  ever. 
Her  face,  too,  ffushed  with  the  admission  she 
had  made,  took  on  an  eminent  beauty  that 
removed  her  from  any  I had  seen  before. 

“And  so  you  are  left  alone,”  I ventured 
solicitously. 

“Yes,  alone,”  she  replied.  And  then  she 
went  on,  “It  would  not  be  so  bad  if  I could 
go  out  and  do  as  he  has  done.  In  China  men 
make  customs  and  women  observe  them.  I 
am  customary  but  I am  not  a fool.” 

“No,  you  are  not  a fool,”  I assented. 

94 


tir 


THE  GIRL  OUTSIDE  THE  TEMPLE 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“My  old  grandmother  here  watches  me  like 
a hawk.  She  suspects  nothing.  She  merely 
watches  me  because  it  is  her  duty.  A woman 
is  always  watched  until  she  gets  so  old;  then 
they  set  her  watching  somebody  else.” 

“And  the  men.^”  I queried,  somewhat 
lightly,  I fear.  In  the  light  of  this  fear,  her 
answer  was  distinctly  illuminating. 

“You  are  a man.  You  know,”  .she  said. 
“But  how,”  I asked,  turning  this  thrust 
aside,  “how  do  you  happen  to  have  such 
advanced  ideas.’  You  are  the  first  woman  of 
standing  I have  ever  spoken  with.  The  bulk 
of  your  sisters  are  feather-brained, — feng  nao- 
tzu,  a windy  head.” 

“I  read  novels  that  were  not  meant  to  fall 
into  my  hands.  The  princesses  have  always 
revolted.  Those  of  royal  blood  can  do  much 
against  custom  and  still  retain  their  honor.” 
“Yes,  that  is  the  way  all  over  the  world,” 
I answered. 

“But  some  day,  if  he  doesn’t  come  back 
soon,  I shall  slip  off  and  find  love  somewhere.  ” 
“You  don’t  mean  to  say  you  would  dare  do 
this.’” 

“I  would  do  anything  to  find  the  love  the 
princesses  found  in  the  novels.” 

“But  don’t  you  see,  that  love  was  ideal.  It 
wouldn’t  happen  exactly  like  that  in  real  life.” 

95 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“But  if  I made  it  happen  like  that!” 

“But  could  you?”  I demanded,  with  ruffled 
brows. 

She  looked  at  me  rather  saucily,  it  seemed, 
for  a number  of  seconds.  I felt  a rush  of  blood 
to  my  brain.  Could  this  be  a Chinese  woman? 
I had  never  met  her  like  before.  All  the 
others  had  been  poor  pent-up  hearts  that  did 
not  know  a single  throbbing  emotion.  But 
this,  this  one  was  different.  She  looked  at  me 
saucily,  I thought,  and  then  sudenly  she 
became  almost  severe.  I could  nearly  im- 
agine her  stamping  her  silken-shod  foot,  which, 
though  small,  was  fortunately  not  of  the  lily 
variety. 

“Could  you?”  I repeated,  when  I had  re- 
gained control  of  my  senses. 

“What  do  you  think?”  she  asked,  her  eyes 
melting  with  tenderness. 

“You  could,”  I answered  at  last,  feeling 
that  for  at  least  once  in  my  life  I had  been 
true  to  myself. 

We  stood  looking  at  each  other  for  an 
unconscionable  time  with  the  little  old  man 
rustling  his  oranges  close  by.  He  evidently 
had  not  paid  any  attention  to  what  we  were 
saying.  His  heart  was  in  the  tips  of  his 
fingers.  He  wiped,  rubbed,  rustled,  and  wiped 
again. 


96 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  Peking  cart  creaked  ominously  and  the 
eyes  of  the  young  woman  froze  on  the  instant. 
The  old  lady  was  rousing  herself  for  another 
smoke.  I got  one  last  tender  look,  one  that  I 
shall  always  treasure,  and  then  the  young 
beauty  turned  away.  Mistletoe,  like  the  nests 
of  large  birds,  hung  in  all  the  trees.  There 
was  a prodigality  of  the  gentle  shrub.  And  it 
mocked  me  as  she  walked  away.  For  of  what 
use  was  it  in  a civilization  such  as  this.^  Red 
lips,  red  lips,  everywhere,  and  nary  a one  to 
kiss. 

The  night  fell  like  a quick  blanket  over  all, 
and  the  blue  sky  heaved  up  from  the  rim  of 
the  tired  world. 


97 


CHAPTER  VII 


On  the  21st  of  August,  1917,  a telegram 
came  into  Moukden  out  of  the  clearest  tropical 
sky  I have  ever  yet  known.  The  skies  of 
China  are  a joy  forever.  During  the  summer 
the  blue  vault  shrinks  away  until  it  becomes 
the  veriest  azure  mist,  like  a ceiling  seen  in 
St.  Peter’s.  In  winter  it  forms  a canopy  of 
cobalt  blue,  so  near  that  you  fancy  you  could 
touch  it  if  only  you  were  a little  higher  up, 
like  the  farther  hills  whose  peaks  seem  to  keep 
the  sky  from  enveloping  the  earth.  At  night 
it  seems  magically  near.  But  my  telegram 
dropped  out  of  a midday  sky  with  the  sun 
flaring  away  toward  the  zenith  and  the  blue 
forced  down  until  it  formed  an  azure  tinted 
ribbon  along  the  rim  of  the  hills. 

The  telegram  was  brief  and  to  the  point. 
I was  transferred  to  Tientsin.  And  being  a 
neophyte  and  not  accustomed  to  dallying  with 
authority,  that  very  evening  found  me  south- 
ward bound.  For  the  last  time  I saw  Mouk- 
den, or  as  the  Chinese  call  it  Feng  T’ien,  Wind 
of  Heaven,  lying  there  in  the  windless  warmth 

98 


“kaSY  STUKKl',’’  TIKNTSIX 


TKMPLE  OF  COXFFCirS 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


of  the  morning.  The  city  walls  encircled 
everything,  and  together  with  the  outlying 
Japanese  district  formed  an  immense  blot  on 
the  landscape,  as  if  a huge  tortoise  had  crawled 
up  from  the  sea  to  sleep.  The  Lama  temples 
swayed  their  jeweled  heads  as  a sign  of  de- 
parture, and  in  another  instant  the  liurrying 
shadows  had  obliterated  everything  but  the 
unending  earth. 

Tientsin,  or  T’ien  Ching,  means  an  inland 
harbor.  It  is  the  port  of  Peking,  though  itself 
situated  forty  miles  inland  on  the  banks  of  the 
muddy  Pei  Ho,  river  out  of  the  north.  When 
I got  to  Tientsin  I found  that  I was  not 
expected,  so  instead  of  remaining  in  the  foreign 
concessions  which,  though  unique,  are  a travesty 
on  the  East,  I sought  the  Chinese  city,  obtain- 
ing a room  in  a native  inn  less  than  a hundred 
yards  from  my  office. 

The  room  looked  out  on  the  courtyard  of  a 
temple  of  Confucius  and  was  at  no  little  eleva- 
tion so  that  I had  a view  of  the  entire  city  and 
the  open  country  beyond.  Since  the  Boxer 
uprising  no  walls  have  surrounded  the  native 
city.  What  were  once  the  sites  of  massive 
masonry  are  now  broad  roads  with  electric  cars 
clanking  over  them.  Still  it  is  China,  for  the 
Chinese  are  not  a superficial  people.  They 
bend  but  they  do  not  break. 

99 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


That  first  night  in  Tientsin  I was  no  sooner 
settled  comfortably  in  my  bed  than  a horrible 
groaning  commenced  directly  beneath  my  win- 
dow. I rose,  bent  far  out  and  looked  down, 
but  I could  make  out  nothing.  I was  forty 
feet  up  in  the  air  and  the  city  pressed  in  on 
every  side;  and  though  I was  high  above  it,  I 
felt  as  if  it  were  struggling  about  my  feet.  I 
visualized  the  turmoil  under  the  hundred 
thousand  roofs.  I shuddered  and  went  back 
to  sleep. 

But  sleep  was  not  destined  to  be  my  lot 
that  night.  I had  barely  extended  my  limbs 
when  the  groaning  was  renewed  with  more 
vigor  than  before.  Now  it  was  low,  like  a 
child  suffering.  Now  it  rose  to  a sort  of  wail, 
like  an  infant  bereft  of  its  mother.  And  in 
another  instant  it  had  changed  to  a shriek, 
like  that  of  a strong  man  in  a burst  of  anger. 

I lay  there  imagining  everything  under  the 
sun.  Was  some  one  being  murdered  under  my 
very  window,  or  had  they  merely  been  beaten 
and  robbed?  The  sounds  came  as  if  from 
the  earth.  Then  I remembered  an  alleyway 
that  ran  beside  the  inn.  With  this  thought  I 
jumped  out  of  bed  and  thrust  my  head  far  into 
the  night,  calling  to  know  what  on  earth  was 
the  matter  below.  I kept  up  my  importunities 
until  some  one  answered  and  demanded  in  a 

100 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


raucous  voice  to  know  what  was  the  matter 
with  me.  It  was  the  venerable  gatekeeper  who 
had  been  awakened  by  my  summons,  and  when 
I told  him  to  investigate  the  alleyway  he 
swore  wheezy  swear-words,  as  he  thought, 
under  his  breath.  I heard  him  moving  heavily 
about.  Then  in  a few  seconds  he  cried  out, 
“There’s  a sick  man  lying  on  the  ground. 
Na  mei  shen  mo,’'  he  said,  before  closing  the 
door  of  his  little  hut,  as  if  that  was  all  I 
wanted  to  know. 

“That’s  of  no  consequence,”  was  the  import 
of  his  phrase.  And  then  I realized  that  I was 
still  in  the  clutches  of  this  pagan  monster. 
A man  might  fall  down  dying  and  everyone 
would  pass  by  on  the  other  side  until  he  was 
dead.  Dead  men  smell  by  and  by,  so  dead 
men  are  carted  away  to  the  tombs.  But  the 
living  can  take  care  of  themselves.  I in- 
stinctively revolted  against  such  a philosophy, 
but  in  a w’orld  like  this,  I thought,  it  is  inevi- 
table. Does  a man  conquer  nature  or  does 
nature  conquer  man?  I was  finding  myself 
in  the  throes  of  a great  deterministic  fatalism, 
and  I rose  to  the  occasion  and  became  a 
fatalist. 

I slept,  and  in  the  morning  I went  to  my 
window  and  looked  down.  The  man  lay 
quietly  just  below.  His  blue  cloak  was  drawn 

101 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


back  and  over  his  face.  After  all,  there  was  a 
touch  of  decency  in  these  folk.  I saw  the  old 
gatekeeper  emerge  from  his  hut. 

“So  he  died,  did  he?”  I called  down. 

“Shih,  fa  ssu  lo,”  he  answered,  his  features 
set  in  a sort  of  imperturbable  grin. 

That  afternoon,  when  I came  home,  the  man 
no  longer  lay  there.  The  city  which  repre- 
sented the  living  had  done  its  last  duty  by  the 
dead.  By  permutations  and  combinations  I 
decided  that  it  would  not  recur  just  there  in 
another  million  years.  My  sleep  was  not 
broken  again. 

The  Pei  Ho  curls  insinuatingly  through  the 
heart  of  the  city.  I write  “insinuatingly”  be- 
cause every  now  and  then  a hut  tumbles  into 
it,  for  there  is  a continual  sucking  at  its  banks, 
as  if  its  bosom  harbored  a selfish  demon  who 
was  jealous  of  the  encroachments  of  man. 
When  a hut  tumbles  into  the  river,  a quantity 
of  pigs,  chickens,  and  humans  tumble  with  it. 
So  the  demon  achieves  a double  advantage. 
Not  only  does  he  lessen  man’s  handiwork,  but 
he  diminishes  man  himself.  The  river  is  the 
gay  destroyer.  Everything  foul  is  poured  into 
it,  but  its  stamina  is  truly  wonderful.  It 
goes  chuckling,  hurrying  by,  to  vomit  its  ill- 
gotten  gain  into  the  sea.  Man  drinks  of  its 
water  and  vile  pestilences  arise,  merely  a re- 

102 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


turn  of  evil  for  evil.  But  is  there  then  no 
good.^  The  night  is  a compensation  for  many 
things.  Come  onto  the  river  at  night. 

I used  to  take  my  boat  five  miles  into  the 
country.  There  was  a univ^ersity  nestled  in  a 
grove  of  acacia  trees  and  I had  friends  who 
were  teachers  there.  In  the  afternoon  I would 
creep  along  the  vile-smelling  banks  until  the 
city  was  left  behind.  There  would  be  a cup 
of  tea,  rich  foreign  food  with  delicious  condi- 
ments, and  then  I would  slip  into  my  boat 
again  and  journey  back  under  the  stars. 

The  lap  of  the  waters  was  music  in  my  ear. 
The  fresh  night  air  had  blown  every  undesir- 
able odor  away.  And  I reclined  on  my  cush- 
ions breathing  in  the  limpid  nectar  of  evening. 
Little  villages  twinkled  along  the  banks.  Boats 
were  continually  passing  us  and  we  passing 
them.  I remember  one  gorgeous  affair  with 
uniformed  rowers.  Light  feminine  laughter 
reached  my  listless  ears,  and  I was  no  longer 
listless.  Could  this  be  one  of  the  love  boats 
of  which  I had  heard  so  much,  not  from  the 
mouths  of  men,  but  from  the  pages  of  olden 
novels.^ 

There  was  once  a maid  on  the  Soochow  creek 
who  had  been  bereft  of  her  lover  by  another 
beauty.  Did  she  pay  him  back  in  kind.^  Ah, 
no.  She  put  all  her  savings  into  a love  boat 

103 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


and  plied  up  and  down  the  creek,  singing 
silvery  songs  that  charmed  the  heart  of  every 
listener.  She  permitted  no  man  to  be  with  her. 
The  love  boat  was  her  convent  and  she  was 
singing  her  life  away. 

One  evening,  when  he  had  grown  weary  of 
his  newly  acquired  mistress,  the  erstwhile  lover 
heard  a song  of  his  beloved  coming  out  of  the 
distance.  He  listened  enchanted.  Slowly  the 
boat  came  near.  And  as  it  went  by,  he  dove 
silently  into  the  water,  meaning  to  swim  to  her 
and  claim  her  as  of  old.  But  the  beauty  of  the 
song  had  stolen  away  his  senses,  and  so  he 
perished  between  two  loves,  the  one  abandoned, 
the  other  sought. 

But  the  river  was  not  always  so  beautiful  at 
night.  It  had  a tragedy  of  its  own,  which  was 
the  more  terrible  because  enshrouded  in  dark- 
ness. One  evening,  when  we  were  slipping 
down  with  the  current,  I heard  a plaintive  cry 
not  far  away.  It  was  the  only  sound  that 
came  to  my  ear,  so  I was  prone  to  heed  it.  I 
signaled  my  rowers  to  turn  their  oars  against 
the  current  and  then  I looked  in  the  direction 
of  the  sound. 

Silhouetted  against  the  twilight  blue  of  the 
sky  stood  a woman  with  a child  in  her  arms. 
She  was  on  the  poop  of  a barge  perhaps  a 
hundred  feet  to  my  right.  Near  her,  towering 

104 


I 

I 


RIVKH  WKNK,  TIK.NTSIX 


CRIMINALS  ON  THE  WAY  TO  BE  SHOT 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


above  her  threateningly,  was  another  figure, 
that  of  a man,  her  husband  and  lord,  I suppose. 
After  a little  I could  distinguish  his  words.  He 
was  rebuking  her  for  having  borne  him  a 
daughter  instead  of  a son.  She  stood  silent 
before  him,  the  child  wailing  pitifully  in  her 
arms.  The  man  was  intoxicated  with  his 
grievance.  lie  waved  his  arms  violently  about, 
and  for  a moment  I thought  he  was  about  to 
strike  her.  But,  after  abusing  her  for  upwards 
of  fifteen  minutes,  he  turned  away.  The 
woman  stood  like  one  rooted  to  the  earth.  Her 
face  was  bent  down  to  the  little  face  in  her 
arms.  There  was  only  one  way  out,  and  before 
I could  utter  a cry  there  was  a soft  splash  and 
the  waters  had  closed  over  them. 

I lay  back  with  a sickening  sense  of  helpless- 
ness. I was  near  to  murder  that  night.  And 
I never  went  on  the  river  for  pleasure  again. 
It  seemed  as  though  some  one  should  have 
seen,  should  have  heard,  should  have  pre- 
vented all  this.  But  I alone  saw  and  heard, 
and  I was  powerless  to  prevent.  The  current 
bore  me  dovMi  and  I hated  it  for  its  urgent 
power. 

My  offices  were  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city 
and  I could  look  into  the  swirl  and  push  of  life 
with  a minimum  of  effort.  Countless  human 
feet  drummed  and  shufiled  the  face  of  the 

105 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


earth.  There  was  a continual  coming  and 
going,  and  to  what  end.?  The  feet  came  and 
went,  came  and  went,  and  I discovered  that 
what  is  true  of  this  great  pagan  culture  is  true 
of  the  cultures  of  our  Western  world.  There  is 
an  eternal  evolving,  the  circle  ever  expands, 
the  source  grows  dim,  but  the  central  force  is 
tireless.  Man  is  the  end  of  man,  and  beyond 
man  lies  the  infinite. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  while  seated  lei- 
surely at  my  desk,  I was  aware  of  music 
that  sounded  strangely  familiar.  The  source  of 
the  music  was  a band,  and  the  band  w^as  the 
first  I had  heard  since  leaving  America.  It 
was  a slow  solemn  dirge  and  I could  fancy  the 
musicians  pacing  steadily  along  like  men  with 
leaded  shoes.  I listened,  and  finally  the  music 
resolved  itself  into  a name.  It  w’as  Chopin’s 
“Funeral  March.” 

The  afternoon  was  like  a New  England 
autumn  one  with  the  sky  overcast  with  gray 
clouds  and  a fresh  wind  blowing  the  crisp  air 
hither  and  thither.  I looked  into  the  street 
and  saw  a great  crowd  moving  with  a nearly 
imperceptible  motion.  In  a little  while  a 

cortege  came  into  sight.  The  band  was 
directly  behind  it,  and  behind  the  band  there 
walked  a number  of  men  in  European  dress. 
I remembered  then  that  the  wife  of  the 

lOG 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


president  of  the  university  had  died.  This, 
then,  was  her  funeral.  I had  seen  them 
married, — he  a graduate  of  Harvard  and  she 
of  Wellesley;  both  of  them  singularly  fine 
Chinese.  Had  the  matter  been  brought  to  my 
attention  earlier,  I should  have  been  walking 
there  too.  But  as  it  was,  I could  only  look 
with  pitying  eyes. 

The  band  passed  on  and  I was  about  to  turn 
away  from  the  window  when  I noticed  a 
second  procession  come  into  view.  This  one 
was  headed  by  mounted  soldiers  who  cleared 
the  streets  for  other  soldiers  on  foot.  These 
last  bulw^arked  ten  or  a dozen  ’rickshaws, 
which  in  their  turn  w’ere  follow'ed  by  a troop  of 
cavalry.  The  men  in  the  ’rickshaws  were 
ill-clad  and  their  faces  wore  a disheartened 
look,  as  if  they  w’ere  alone  in  the  world.  A 
thousand  curious  eyes  were  turned  in  their 
direction,  and  search  as  the  condemned  men 
would,  there  w'as  not  an  eye  shedding  a beam 
of  sympathy.  I turned  to  a Chinese  assistant 
at  my  elbow.  He  only  confirmed  my  fears. 

By  a singular  turn  of  fate  Chopin’s  “Funeral 
March”  was  doing  a double  duty.  For  the 
procession  that  followed  the  funeral  cortege 
was  that  of  men  condemned  to  die.  Death 
w-alked  before  the  band  and  imminent  death 
stalked  behind.  The  poor  wretches  who  were 

107 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


about  to  be  shot  had  no  ears  for  music  just 
then.  But  still  the  music  played  on,  and  I 
could  hear  it  long  after  both  processions 
passed  out  of  sight. 

My  Chinese  assistant,  in  leaving  the  win- 
dow, remarked,  quite  by  the  way,  that  an 
old  executioner’s  son  was  among  my  office 
force.  I demanded  at  once  to  be  shown  him. 
He  turned  out  to  be  an  open-faced  boy  of 
excellent  habits. 

“So  your  father  is  an  executioner,”  I said, 
after  formal  greetings  had  been  exchanged. 

“Shih,’*  he  replied,  bobbing  his  head  awk- 
wardly up  and  down  as  Chinese  youth  will 
in  the  presence  of  those  they  deem  their  supe- 
riors. 

“But  I don’t  suppose  he  has  much  to  do 
now.  He  is  an  executioner  of  the  old  school, 
isn’t  he?” 

“The  sword,  you  mean?” 

“Yes,  the  sword,”  I answered. 

'*Shih,”  he  articulated  again;  meaning  that 
he  gave  assent  to  my  proposition  that  his 
father  employed  the  sword. 

“Tell  your  father  that  I shall  pay  him  a 
visit  one  of  these  days.” 

The  youth  only  bowed  in  reply  and  then 
almost  immediately  requested  to  be  permitted 
to  go  home  and  inform  his  worthy  father. 

108 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


I had  no  intention  of  visiting  him  that  after- 
noon but  when  my  assistant  remarked  that 
they  would  be  expecting  me,  I went. 

The  old  executioner  was  quite  feeble  now. 
There  was  nothing  extraordinary  about  his 
face.  I did  not  expect  to  find  it  beautiful. 
And  I was  surprised  not  to  find  it  coarse.  He 
must  have  been  a big  man  in  his  day,  for  even 
bent  over  as  he  was  he  loomed  large  in  the 
doorway.  After  chatting  in  a commonplace 
manner,  I asked  him  if  he  knew  how  many 
souls  he  had  freed. 

“/  wan  ta  liao,  chiu  wang  lo,’*  he  replied, 
without  an  instant’s  hesitation. 

A free  translation  of  what  he  said  w^as,  “I 
lopped  off  ten  thousand;  then  I lost  count.” 

Under  the  circumstances  I thought  his  com- 
posure remarkable.  Perhaps  he  was  only  feign- 
ing. So  I put  some  more  questions. 

“After  an  especially  busy  day,  could  you 
sleep  well?”  I asked.  I meant  to  ask  if  his 
conscience  were  not  troubled  commensurately 
with  the  number  of  his  victims.  But  evi- 
dently the  old  executioner  had  no  conscience. 

“The  busier  the  day,  the  better  I slept,” 
he  replied,  without  a suggestion  of  humor. 

“But  w’eren’t  you  ever  bothered  by  your 
business?  Didn’t  you  sometimes  feel  like  a 
common  murderer?” 


109 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  old  executioner  elevated  his  eyes  at 
this.  “I  never  used  the  knife,”  he  said.  “I 
was  offered  big  pay  to  do  the  seven  cuts,  but 
I washed  my  hands  of  torture.  No,  I should 
starve  before  I would  torture.  Only  a brute 
will  torture.” 

“Then  the  mere  business  of  lopping  off 
heads  meant  nothing  to  you.” 

“Ah,  the  business;  that  meant  a great  deal. 
It  meant  food  for  me  and  my  family.  But  you 
see,  I did  not  allow  the  personal  relation  to 
enter  into  it.  I never  had  dealings  with  friends. 
As  for  the  others,  I saw  nothing  except  a little 
band  of  flesh.  I swung  and  passed  on.  For 
such  things  I have  no  memory.” 

So  there  was  a code  of  honor  among  execu- 
tioners! They  would  not  descend  to  torture, 
but  they  had  no  compunctions  at  killing. 
And,  notice,  the  old  executioner  never  once 
used  the  words  kill  or  cut.  When  he  said 
“/  wan  ta  liao,”  he  merely  “hit”  ten  thou- 
sand. The  rest  of  it  was  an  affair  of  natural 
mechanics.  It  has  long  been  known  to  stu- 
dents of  medical  and  the  allied  sciences  that 
a man  cannot  exist  separately  from  his  head. 

To  illustrate  what  he  meant  by  murder,  the 
old  executioner  told  me  the  story  of  a Can- 
tonese governor  who  was  at  a loss  to  devise 
means  of  ridding  his  province  of  lepers.  Finally 

no 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


he  hit  upon  an  idea.  Inasmuch  as  most  of 
the  lepers  congregated  either  in  or  near  the 
capital,  he  posted  a notice  to  the  effect  that 
if  all  the  afflicted  ones  would  gather  at  a cer- 
tain secluded  spot,  they  would  have  their 
ills  attended  to  after  being  given  a sumptuous 
repast. 

So  the  poor  wretches  came  until  they  num- 
bered some  three  hundred  souls.  A great 
cellar  had  been  dug  in  the  ground  and  here 
the  tables  were  laid  and  heaped  high  with 
everything  good  to  eat.  The  unsuspecting 
lepers  went  down  into  the  cellar,  and  true  to 
his  word  the  governor  gave  them  the  banquet. 
Then,  without  warning,  he  attended  to  their 
ills.  Several  companies  of  soldiers  had  been 
drawn  up  as  if  for  an  affair  of  state.  At  a 
given  signal  they  commenced  firing  into  the 
pit  and  they  did  not  cease  until  there  was  no 
longer  any  movement  there.  The  excavated 
earth  was  shoveled  back,  and  thus  was  the 
province  ridded  of  leprosy. 

On  the  one  hand  I was  continually  con- 
fronted with  the  ugliness  and  squalor  of  life, 
and  on  the  other  with  the  beauty  of  pageantry. 
Ordinarily  the  streets  were  dull,  colorless  thor- 
oughfares through  which  the  teeming  thou- 
sands ceaselessly  poured.  But  now  and  again 
they  would  be  lit  with  Oriental  splendor.  The 

111 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


funeral  processions  especially  were  gorgeous 
contrasts  to  the  humdrum  of  existence.  Some- 
times they  were  a mile  long;  the  predominat- 
ing color  being  red.  They  were  brilliant  spec- 
tacles and  every  bit  of  them  w^as  bought  and 
paid  for.  Even  the  men  in  white,  who  wept 
so  copiously  that  their  tears  wetted  the  dusty 
earth,  received  their  pieces  of  silver. 

Almost  countless  children  bore  striking  ban- 
ners. Musicians  and  shaven  priests  contrib- 
uted their  modicums  of  sound  and  mummery. 
Marvelously  carved  temples  in  miniature,  the 
deceased’s  favorite  chair  with  his  picture  on 
the  cushion,  triumphal  arches  with  inscriptions 
recounting  his  achievements  and  public  benefac- 
tions, perhaps  his  pony  or  even  his  dog, — all 
these  bewildered  the  eye  with  splendid  confusion. 

I could  almost  be  glad  that  some  one  had 
passed  on,  so  long  as  the  senses  of  the  populace 
were  so  variously  gratified.  One  day,  look- 
ing out  of  my  window,  I saw  them  making 
sacrifices  in  the  Temple  of  Confucius.  I be- 
lieve it  was  the  anniversary  of  the  great  teach- 
er’s birth.  A bullock  and  two  sheep  were 
laid  upon  the  altar  and  then  the  whole  as- 
semblage, resplendently  dressed,  gathered  round 
while  priests  in  yellow  robes  told  their  beads 
and  made  their  obeisances  to  the  shade  of 
the  Immortal  K’ung  Fu-tzu. 

112 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


It  was  like  passages  of  the  Old  Testament 
being  rehabilitated  before  my  very  eyes.  On 
the  other  side  was  the  Great  East  Road,  where 
thousands  were  bent  on  the  sordid  business 
of  filling  their  stomachs.  But  here  in  this 
painted  cloister  the  cares  of  the  world  were 
thrust  away.  The  sheer  beauty  of  romance 
dominated  everything.  If  this  is  not  wor- 
ship, I thought,  then  there  is  not  a God. 


113 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Because  Hersey  Baird,  Princetonian  and 
wealthy  sportsman,  had  been  disappointed  in 
love  and  had  come  to  China  to  marry  a prin- 
cess was  no  reason  why  he  should  want  me  to 
do  the  same.  But  when  I met  him  on  the 
steps  of  the  Custom  House  and  he  invited 
me  to  meet  the  sister  of  his  beloved,  I had 
not  the  heart  to  refuse  him.  In  the  ordinary 
course  of  events  I could  never  hope  to  meet 
a princess.  Hersey  Baird  was  intending  to 
devote  his  wealth  to  the  founding  of  a col- 
lege, and  I have  a suspicion,  a very  faint  one, 
that  he  saw  in  me  a likely  assistant  to  his 
plans.  Had  I,  too,  been  disappointed  in  love, 
there  is  no  telling  what  might  have  occurred,  but 
I had  not  then  ever  fallen  in  love.  And  then  to 
meet  a princess  who  was  all  that  the  name  im- 
plies was  truly  incurring  the  enmity  of  the  gods. 

That  same  evening  I went  to  his  home. 
But  it  was  only  by  a turn  of  fate  that  I met  his 
wife’s  sister,  the  princess  Ssu-ling.  It  seems 
that  a son  and  heir  had  recently  come  to  the 
home.  Madame  Baird  had  him  brought  in 

114 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


for  my  special  inspection.  He  was  an  odd 
little  bit  of  humanity  with  round  black  eyes 
and  silken  hair,  with  his  father’s  nose  and 
his  mother’s  lips.  His  cheek  bones  were  Tar- 
tar, his  chin  of  Mongolian  cast. 

In  announcing  his  existence  the  father  called 
him  simply  a child.  Perhaps  he  thought  I 
ought  to  know  that  Great  Luck  w’ould  bring 
him  a son.  But  as  the  facts  of  the  matter 
stood,  I was  entirely  unaware  of  the  sex  of 
the  little  thing.  So,  cudgeling  my  brain  for 
the  appropriate  word,  I asked  the  proud  mother 
if  the  child  were  a cow  or  a donkey.  ]\Iy  mis- 
take was  apparent  to  her  at  once.  I had  meant 
to  ask  if  the  child  were  a boy  or  a girl,  but 
I mixed  my  tones  with  the  above  lamentable 
result.  We  laughed  merrily  over  the  mis- 
take and  were  about  to  settle  into  a serious 
conversation  when  a peal  of  merriment  broke 
on  us  from  an  adjoining  room. 

My  friend  had  informed  me  at  the  moment 
of  my  arrival  that  the  princess  Ssu-ling  was 
indisposed  and  probably  would  not  be  able 
to  see  me.  But  her  indisposition  must  have 
been  singularly  temperamental,  for  no  sooner 
did  a sense  of  my  error  dawn  on  her  than  she 
went  into  spasms  of  laughter.  In  another 
instant  she  was  standing  in  the  doorway  and 
my  soul  was  in  my  eyes. 

115 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  princess  Ssu-ling  was  neither  small  nor 
large  but  of  such  delicate  proportion  that 
I rather  felt  than  saw  the  bewitching  grace 
of  her.  Her  features,  though  unmistakably 
Tartar,  reminded  me  of  the  women  of  north- 
ern Italy.  Her  skin  was  slightly  olive,  with 
the  color  flushing  through  as  though  she  w'ere 
perpetually  embarrassed.  Her  eyes  opened 
wide  and  had  a certain  liquid  quality  about 
them  so  that  they  seemed  like  unfathomable 
lakes  with  the  bottoms  temptingly  near,  so 
persistently  did  they  harbor  emotions  of  one 
kind  or  another.  Her  blue-black  hair  w'as 
parted  cleanly  in  the  middle  and  drawn  tightly 
down  in  two  jet  braids  that  lay  like  woven 
circular  mats  over  her  ears.  Gold  pendant 
earrings  dropped  nearly  to  her  shoulders.  Be- 
sides these,  of  ornamentation  there  was  not 
a sign. 

She  was  wearing  a long  coat  of  jade-green 
silk  with  a handsome  pattern  of  embroidery 
fringing  it.  The  sleeves  of  the  coat  fell  some 
inches  short  of  her  WTists,  exposing  shapely 
arms  that  tapered  into  jewelless  fingers.  Be- 
neath the  hem  of  the  coat  I glimpsed  two 
silken  slippers  of  a color  like  the  sky  on  winter 
evenings.  It  was  as  if  the  doorway  were  a 
frame  to  her,  and  when  she  finally  stepped 
out  of  it  and  advanced  to  the  center  of  the 

116 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


room,  I closed  my  eyes,  for  it  seemed  they 
must  be  deceiving  me.  But  when  I looked 
again,  she  was  still  standing  there,  her  head 
bent  coyly  down,  her  fingers  gently  inter- 
locked, as  though  she  were  expecting  me  to 
speak. 

We  were  presented  to  each  other  with  a 
minimum  of  ceremony,  though  I had  imag- 
ined many  ceremonious  acts.  These  were 
to  be  reserved  for  a later  hour,  not  that  night, 
but  weeks  hence,  when  she  understood  my 
faltering  Chinese  tongue.  Soon  I discovered 
that  she  spoke  French  prettily  and  this  be- 
came the  medium  of  our  interchange  of  thought. 
It  was  like  meeting  on  a foreign  soil.  It  en- 
hanced the  magic  of  our  friendship. 

Just  outside  the  Japanese  concession  there 
is  a large  Chinese  park,  and  thither  Ssu-ling 
and  I were  wont  to  go  on  balmy  summer  even- 
ings. In  China  a park  is  called  a Kuang  Yuen- 
tzu,  or  a place  where  one  may  wander.  Dur- 
ing the  summer  thousands  of  Chinese  of  the 
better  class  frequent  the  Ta  T’ien  Lou.  There 
is  a little  theater  where  portions  of  popular 
plays  are  staged.  It  was  interesting  to  watch 
the  players  strut  about,  each  one,  while  he 
was  saying  his  lines,  occupying  the  center  of 
attention.  A servant  comes  in  to  announce 
that  dinner  is  being  served.  This  he  accom- 

117 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


plishes  with  an  immense  flourish,  as  if  the 
denouement  of  the  act  depended  on  the 
right  enunciation  of  his  paltry  lines.  He  goes 
off  and  another  takes  his  place.  In  a Chinese 
play  everybody,  for  the  time  being,  is  a star. 

It  is  not  impolite  to  talk  during  a perform- 
ance, though  for  the  most  part  the  audience 
is  strikingly  attentive.  I did  notice,  how- 
ever, that  although  people  seemed  inclined 
to  listen  they  were  not  so  particular  about 
looking  at  the  stage.  The  greater  part  of 
the  time  it  seemed  as  though  they  were  watch- 
ing Ssu-ling  and  me.  I could  not  blame  them 
for  watching  her,  and  I suppose  they  thought 
it  odd  that  we  should  be  together. 

Every  now  and  then  a little  laugh  escaped 
her  and  I knew  some  subtle  turn  of  the  text 
had  evaded  my  knowledge  of  her  tongue. 
When  anything  particularly  pleased  her,  I 
always  requested  that  she  put  it  in  French. 
This  she  did  with  a little  hesitating  lisp  in 
her  voice,  as  if  there  were  something  she  wished 
to  palliate  in  the  translation.  WTien  she  fin- 
ished she  would  invariably  peer  questioningly 
into  my  eyes  and  demand,  “ Comprenez-vousf 
And  whether  I had  or  not,  I always  looked 
searchingly  back  at  her  and  replied,  “Oui,  oui” 

After  the  theater  we  walked  again  into 
the  open  and  waited  for  the  fire  display.  Every 

118 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


evening  the  management  arranged  a brilliant 
show  of  fireworks,  the  like  of  which  I have 
never  witnessed  in  any  other  land.  Two  huge 
posts  were  placed  some  ten  feet  apart  and 
extending  fifty  into  the  air.  Upon  a num- 
ber of  crosspieces  the  mystic  boxes  and  papers 
were  fixed.  I have  seen  a whole  pantomimic 
play  in  burning  colored  powder.  Men,  women, 
and  children,  fantastically  dressed,  dropped 
from  a point  seemingly  only  a little  lower 
than  the  stars.  It  was  indescribably  beau- 
tiful, and  as  a mere  mechanical  contrivance 
worthy  of  the  subtlest  brains.  Rarely  did 
the  paper  images  ignite,  and  then  the  delicate 
tissues  burnt  so  quickly  that  unless  one  were 
unduly  attentive  he  would  think  it  a part 
of  the  scheme. 

But  the  portions  of  the  park  I shall  hold  in 
most  pleasing  remembrance  are  the  rustic 
seats  on  a little  rocky  hill  overlooking  an  arti- 
ficial lake.  Here  Ssu-ling  and  I always  even- 
tually repaired.  Here  we  exchanged  our  most 
intimate  thoughts,  and  here  I discovered  the 
magical  subtlety  of  her  mind. 

“Did  it  never  strike  you  as  strange,”  I 
said  to  her  one  evening,  “that  you  and  I should 
be  sitting  here  together,  you  a princess  and 
I,  well,  just  what  I am?” 

“Wo  ti  Hsi  Kung — my  western  prince,” 
119 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


for  thus  it  was  that  she  loved  to  address  me, 
“Wo  ti  Hsi  Kung,  have  you  so  soon  forgotten 
the  fable  of  the  lonely  hearts?” 

“Then  it  is  because  you  are  lonely  that 
you  permit  me  these  sweet  moments?” 

“I  was  lonely,  Hsi  Kung,  but  no  longer  am 
I so.  Do  you  forget  that  the  blood  of  the 
Ghargis  Khans  flows  in  my  veins  and  that  I 
cannot,  nor  would  I,  walk  with  common  men.” 
“Then  the  fact  of  my  being  a Westerner 
compensates  for  much.” 

“You  are  like  a jealous  child,  Hsi  Kung. 
Because  you  haven’t  the  blood  of  the  Ghargis 
Khans  you  despise  that  which  you  have.” 
“Which  is  very  little,  Ssu-ling.” 

“Is  Ssu-ling  then  content  with  so  little? 
Your  talk  changes,  Hsi  Kung.  A little  since, 
and  the  universe  was  my  footstool.  Must 
I now  cherish  only  the  littler  stars?” 

As  I had  not  the  language  to  answer  such 
beautiful  arguments,  we  fell  to  talking  of  God. 

“What  is  your  opinion  of  all  this?”  I asked, 
indicating  the  starry  vault  with  a sweep  of 
my  arm. 

“It  is  more  precious  than  these,”  she  an- 
swered, turning  the  briefest  instant  to  look 
on  the  moving  sea  of  faces. 

“More  precious  than  man?”  I queried, 
with  feigned  surprise. 

120 


MAHKKT  PI.ACK  'WITH  SMIHNE 


A STUDENT,  HIS  AVIFE  AND  HIS  AUNT 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Shall  I tell  you  the  story  of  the  aged  philos- 
opher who  discovered  God?” 

“Shih”  I whispered,  for  I was  not  uncon- 
scious of  the  solemnity  of  her  thought. 

Ssu-ling  leaned  forward,  her  face  aglow  with 
Vega’s  yellow  light.  She  spoke  in  her  native 
tongue.  It  was  a simple  story,  requiring  a 
simple  language. 

“There  was  once  a sage  who  employed 
his  whole  lifetime  seeking  for  a manifesta- 
tion of  the  One  you  call  God.  He  wandered 
up  and  down  the  faces  of  the  earth,  peering 
into  the  hearts  of  men,  but  God  was  not  there. 
Instead  he  saw  evil  thoughts,  and  misery, 
and  vile  plagues  which  scourged  the  land 
as  a thresher  flails  out  grain. 

“In  his  quest  he  grew  to  be  an  old  man. 
Finally  despairing  of  the  inhabited  regions 
of  the  kingdom,  he  sought  the  seclusion  of 
the  hills  and  mountains.  He  had  given  up 
his  quest.  His  only  thought  was  to  find  a 
solitary  place  and  die. 

“Towards  evening  of  a glorious  day  he 
toiled  upwards  to  the  top  of  a thickly  wooded 
hill.  He  was  worn  and  feeble  with  age.  At 
times  it  seemed  unlikely  he  would  reach  the 
top.  But  he  did  reach  the  top  just  as  the 
sun  was  seeking  India. 

“He  saw  a fertile  valley  lying  extended 
121 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


like  a carpet  of  many  colors.  A little  stream, 
a ribbon  of  silver,  glistened  far  below.  Beau- 
tiful plants  and  flowers  clustered  in  silent 
profusion  at  his  feet.  And  over  everything 
the  declining  sun  shed  his  impartial  benedic- 
tion. 

“The  aged  philosopher  staggered  erect,  aban- 
doning his  cracked  and  shriveled  cane,  clasp- 
ing his  withered  hands  in  childlike  ecstasy, 
while  his  soul  drank  in  the  immortal  beauty 
of  nature. 

“At  last,”  he  cried,  “at  last  I have  found 
it.  Now  I die  happy.  Surely  this  is  a sight 
for  God  alone.” 

In  time  Ssu-ling  went  away  to  her  home 
in  the  Western  Hills.  I was  despondent  un- 
til she  told  me  the  Western  Hills  were  a locality 
near  Peking.  For  it  is  near  the  Western  Hills 
that  the  old  emperors  had  their  summer  palaces. 
Here  they  came  to  play  and  escape  the  affairs 
of  state,  which  must  have  been  very  burden- 
some indeed.  Through  the  eyes  of  Ssu-ling, 
among  the  last  of  a noble  Tartar  line,  I 
saw  the  unparalleled  splendor  of  the  Tartar 
city. 

There  is  not  another  spot  in  the  world  like 
Peking,  or  the  Northern  Citadel,  to  distin- 
guish it  from  Nanking,  w’hich  in  times  past 
was  the  capital  of  the  south.  It  is  indeed  a 

122 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Tartar  city,  for  on  Peking  the  northern  con- 
querors, the  Celts  of  the  Middle  Kingdom, 
lavished  their  wealth  and  pride  and  all  the 
splendid  imagery  of  their  creative  imagina- 
tions. The  result  is  a gem  as  pure  and  serene 
as  the  Taj  Mahal. 

Had  the  Tartars  continued  in  power,  China 
would  never  have  changed  to  a republican 
form  of  government.  i\.nd  there  are  those, 
foreign  as  well  as  native,  wdio  deprecate  this 
change.  For  sheer  magnificence  has  its  own 
ends.  Dress  suits  and  high  top  hats  do  not 
alter  the  hearts  of  men,  but  how  they  affect 
the  appearance! 

Gone  are  the  days  of  the  ceremonial  robe, 
the  peacock  plumes,  and  the  splendid  raiment 
of  the  courtiers.  But  Peking  remains,  and  so 
long  as  the  yellow  roofs  of  the  Forbidden  City 
flare  against  the  unresisting  blue  of  the  sky, 
the  traveler  will  not  be  at  a loss  to  recon- 
struct the  pageantry  of  a race  unfortunately 
dead.  The  huge  gray  walls  with  their  towering 
templed  gates  meagerly  herald  the  beauty  they 
seclude.  But  only  pass  within,  mount  to  a 
vantage  point,  and  see  the  gently  sloping  roofs 
billowing  away  like  an  imprisoned  saffron  sea. 
The  yellow  tiles  are  intermittently  broken 
with  green,  and  both  are  only  accentuated  by 
the  common  gray  of  the  lesser  buildings  which 

123 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


cluster  around  the  palaces  and  temples  as  if 
their  hearts’  blood  were  drawn  from  them. 

Great  avenues,  like  animated  rivers  of  color, 
flow  from  wall  to  wall.  They  seethe  with 
humanity,  with  a turbulent  pagan  throng.  I 
looked  down  on  them,  detached,  as  if  from 
another  world.  They  were  not  a part  of  me, 
yet  I felt  myself  caught  up  by  their  irresistible 
glamor;  for  here  was  man  ebullient  with 
emotion,  hiding  nothing,  and  yet  concealing 
all. 

It  was  rumored  that  the  Empress  Dowager, 
that  remarkable  Elizabethan  who  rose  from 
obscurity  to  match  her  wits  with  those  of  the 
Western  world,  had  constructed  an  under- 
ground passageway  from  her  palace  to  the 
home  of  a foreign  diplomat  with  wdiom  she 
was  wont  to  pass  her  time  as  she  would. 
It  was  even  whispered  that  an  accomplished 
ambassador  requested  his  withdrawal  because 
the  redoubtable  empress  impoverished  him  at 
the  royal  game  of  poker.  It  is  a pity  indeed 
that  the  great  woman  did  not  leave  behind 
her  a diary,  for  it  would  have  made  a volume 
of  mighty  reading.  Though  it  were  unwise  to 
let  it  go  into  the  hands  of  the  young,  who 
might  thereby  be  tempted  to  emulate  their 
queen. 

Until  recently  the  Forbidden  City  was  all 
124 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


that  the  name  implies.  Even  now  there  is  a 
nook  and  corner  of  it  which  must  be  forever 
inaccessible  to  the  world.  Here  the  remnants 
of  the  royal  family  dwell;  the  little  Emperor 
for  whom  various  attempts  at  restoration  have 
been  made;  his  uncle  and  a host  of  retainers 
who  vainly  wait  and  pray  for  an  imperial 
resurrection.  A handful  of  eunuchs  still  poke 
their  beardless  cheeks  through  the  princesses’ 
curtained  windows.  But  the  Forbidden  City 
is  dead,  and  dead  is  the  race  that  might  have 
restored  it  to  life. 

The  AVestern  Hills,  where  Ssu-ling  had  her 
home,  are  some  seventeen  miles  from  the 
walls  of  the  Tartar  city.  Beyond  them  lies 
Mongolia  and  the  Desert  of  Gobi,  that  Sahara 
of  Asia  which  with  the  aid  of  early  winter 
winds  increases  the  soil  of  provinces  a thousand 
miles  to  the  south.  Ssu-ling’s  home  was  a 
little  Italian  villa-like  affair  overlooking  the 
lotus  lake.  Far  off  in  the  distance  a pagoda 
penciled  itself  on  the  sky.  The  multicolored 
roofs  of  the  summer  palaces  shimmered  against 
the  green  of  the  pines  and  the  hemlocks.  In 
the  early  days  of  the  empire  it  must  have  been 
a veritable  fairyland.  For  even  now,  with  no 
quaint  processions  moving  across  the  plain,  it 
had  an  atmosphere  distinctly  unique. 

At  night,  with  the  red  moon  dissolving  into 
125 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MH)DLE  KINGDOM 


yellow  over  the  tops  of  the  hills,  there  was  not 
a more  bewitching  spot  this  side  of  Paradise. 
In  the  daytime  Ssu-ling  piloted  me  about, 
discovering  loves  long  dead,  and  burning  my 
ears  with  the  romances  of  kings.  I saw  the 
marble  boat,  that  most  ingenious  contrivance, 
which  is  supposedly  built  of  solid  stone  and 
for  aught  I could  discover  is  built  of  solid 
stone.  It  is  pure  white  and  floats  gently  at  its 
mooring.  Once  it  bore  the  Emperor  around 
the  lake.  Will  it  never  glide  over  the  placid 
waters  again?  Not  unless  an  Emperor  takes 
his  ease  on  the  alabaster  throne. 

One  day  we  journeyed  back  to  visit  the 
Temple  of  Heaven.  What  the  Taj  Mahal  is 
to  Agra,  the  T’ien  T’an  is  to  the  Tartar  city. 
It  is  still  and  undoubtedly  forever  will  be  a 
mystery  whence  came  these  precious  stones. 
For  the  altar  is  built  of  spotless  marble. 
Thither  the  emperor  yearly  repaired  to  worship 
the  source  of  his  power.  As  a token  of  royal 
humility  he  climbed  the  balustraded  steps 
with  unshod  feet.  And  to  this  day  a Westerner 
can  no  better  show  the  fineness  of  his  soul 
than  by  entering  the  temple  with  unsandaled 
silence.  That  Chinese  cosmogonists  failed  to 
construct  a theological  heaven  should  in  no 
wise  cast  a slur  on  the  depth  of  their  creative 
imaginations.  Being  of  a people  eminently 

126 


THE  MARBLE  BOAT 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


practical  they  saw  no  need  to  exercise  their 
fancies  merely  for  fancy’s  sake.  What  they 
dreamed,  they  realized.  Life  was  mostly 
ugly.  If  there  were  a heaven  it  must  needs 
be  brought  to  earth.  And  in  this  instance 
heaven  and  the  fullness  thereof  is  Peking  and 
its  environs.  The  T’ien  T’an  against  a purple 
sky!  No  wonder  Orient  spells  Imagery! 


127 


« 


CHAPTER  IX 


Though  I did  not  know  it  at  the  time,  I 
was  never  to  see  Ssu-Iing  again.  Her  Hsi 
Kung  left  her,  pressing  tenderly  his  own  hands, 
while  she  pressed  hers.  For  this  is  the  fashion 
in  China.  I went  back  to  my  offices  in  the 
Tientsin  Chinese  city,  and  for  an  unconscion- 
ably long  time  I could  see  nothing  but  the 
purple  rim  of  the  Western  Hills  with  the  roofs 
of  the  palaces  glimmering  a little  way  beneath. 
The  Tung  Ma  Lu,  or  Eastern  Road,  served 
only  to  accentuate  the  beautiful  memory  that 
was  to  be  forever  mine. 

In  China  time  flies  with  a vengeance.  If 
the  romantic,  the  strangely  beautiful,  was  not 
always  happening,  like  the  tales  in  an  endless 
storybook,  there  was  much  else  to  captivate 
my  fancy. 

One  morning  I was  standing  beside  my 
window,  looking  into  the  bustling  street.  No 
object  in  particular  claimed  my  attention  until 
I noticed  a group,  that  grew  with  the  moments, 
surrounding  a large  earthen  jar.  To  call  this 
jar  simply  large  is  barely  doing  it  justice.  It 

128 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


was  of  the  sort  in  which  the  thief  was  con- 
cealed, in  the  story  of  the  Forty  Robbers. 
The  man  who  had  proprietorship  over  it  held 
a ladle  in  one  hand.  With  this  he  dipped  a 
quantity  of  glasses  full  of  a blackish  viscous 
liquid  that,  even  from  my  second-story  win- 
dow, seemed  singularly  alive.  The  crowd 
multiplied  exceedingly.  Dirty  yellow  hands 
were  outstretched  for  the  coveted  drink  with 
as  much  noisy  clamorousness  as  other  hands 
were  once  outstretched  for  water  from  that 
memorable  Black  Hole. 

I saw  the  black  viscous  liquid  rapidly  reced- 
ing to  the  bottom  of  the  jar.  Still  the  crowd 
surged  in  ever  increasing  numbers.  I must 
act  quickly.  No  doubt  this  was  some  famed 
life-giving  nectar  from  a templed  spring  in 
Tibet.  I went  precipitately  down  and  elbowed 
my  way  to  the  very  edge  of  the  cavernous 
dish.  No  sooner  had  I looked  than  I rubbed 
my  eyes  to  make  sure  that  I was  not  dreaming. 
I was  wide  awake.  The  native  who  held  out 
to  me  a brimming  glass  of  the  stuff  was  no 
apparition.  I paid  him  two  coppers  for  the 
drink  and  then  I poured  it  carefully  into  a 
saucer  on  his  stand. 

Could  I believe  my  senses?  Innumerable 
little  tadpoles  wTiggled  over  the  white  glazed 
surface.  If  a tadpole  is  born,  then  these 

129 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


certainly  were  infants.  It  was  the  most 
atrocious  instance  of  robbing  the  cradle  I 
have  yet  uncovered.  But  the  natives  did  not 
look  at  the  matter  in  just  that  light.  There 
was  nothing  immoral  about  it  to  them,  though 
in  my  opinion  they  were  treating  their  stom- 
achs with  dissolute  abandonment. 

I can  only  imagine  the  good  they  thought 
they  were  doing  themselves.  As  ticklers  of 
the  abdominal  palate  I can  conceive  of  nothing 
more  efficacious  than  tadpoles,  little  ones.  As 
stimulants  to  the  digestive  organs  they  are, 
for  all  I know,  quite  without  parallel.  But 
until  they  closed  their  little  eyes  in  death  I 
can’t,  for  the  life  of  me,  understand  how  any 
mortal  man.  Pagan  or  Christian,  could  tolerate, 
even  for  an  instant,  a half  hundred  of  them 
chasing  their  tails  around  his  solar  plexus. 
Dead,  they  might  conceivably  be  palatable  sea 
food.  Alive,  they  must  be  torture,  or  else 
Nirvana.  Perhaps  they  function  so  rapidly 
that  the  total  resultant  sensation  is  like  re- 
clining on  a billowy  couch  with  breezes  blowing 
from  an  emerald  sea. 

I have  eaten  hashish,  that  delectable  Persian 
condiment.  I have  felt  the  world  and  my 
material  sense  slough  off  me  like  dead  skin.  I 
have  experienced  utter  detachment  of  body  and 
soul,  so  that  the  latter  ascended  in  a purple 

130 


PORCKI.AIX  PAII.OW  NKAK  THK  SUMMKK  PALACE 


LOOKING  TOWARD  PEKING  FROM  THE  AVESTERX  HILLS 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


mist  and  regarded  the  former  with  a genuine 
sympathy,  not  altogether  tearless.  But  I have 
yet  to  quench  my  thirst  with  tadpoles. 

That  evening,  when  I went  home,  I asked 
L’Americain,  my  native  servant  whom  a 
French  colleague  so-named  because  he  re- 
sembled Chingachgook,  what  he  thought  of  the 
native  superstitions.  I related  the  incident  of 
the  tadpoles,  solely  to  get  his  reaction  to  it. 
L’Americain  reacted  thuswise. 

“I  could  never  afford  the  drink  myself, 
but  I remember  hearing  my  grandmother 
say  it  was  looked  favorably  on  by  the  em- 
perors. ” 

“But  don’t  you  know  why  it  is  looked 
favorably  on I questioned. 

“AYell,  it’s  an  old  custom  that  has  never 
done  anyone  harm,  and  it  may  have  done  good. 
I don’t  know'.” 

“Why  is  it  that  I never  happened  on  this 
drink  before?” 

“Because  it  is  so  precious.  I can  buy  a 
gallon  of  water  for  a copper,  while  this  costs 
that  much  for  a glass.  It’s  not  reasonable. 
I’m  a poor  man.  ” 

“ But  if  you  were  rich  you  would  drink  the 
stuff  and  be  no  better  for  it,”  I countered  a 
trifle  sarcastically. 

“The  doctors  have  not  yet  determined  the 
131 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


good  of  these  things,”  ray  servant  answered 
unperturbed. 

Spinny,  the  venerable  nurse  of  English 
friends  of  mine,  herself  the  mother  of  some 
seventeen  children,  maintained  that  the  only 
cure  for  a toothache  was  to  put  a toad  in  the 
mouth  and  keep  it  there  till  it  died.  On  a 
detailed  inquiry  I learned  that  the  pain  in  the 
tooth  entered  the  toad  and  annoyed  it  so  much 
that  it  gave  up  the  ghost.  One  day  Spinnj'^  had 
a toothache.  The  wife  of  my  English  friend 
endeavored  to  have  her  treated  by  a foreign 
dentist;  but  all  to  no  avail.  Spinny  resorted  to 
her  own  devices.  Did  she  put  a toad  in  her 
mouth  and  did  it  die.^  She  would  not  indulge 
our  curiosities  thus  far.  I only  know^  that  she 
suffered  excruciating  agonies  for  tw^o  or  three 
days  when  the  tooth,  manifestly  harassed  to 
the  breaking  point  by  the  toad,  dropped  out, 
and  there  the  matter  lay. 

Spinny ’s  sole  justification  for  this  practice 
was  an  anecdote  told  her  by  her  mother  of  a 
princess  in  the  dark  ages  who  was  cured  of 
toothache  in  this  striking  manner.  This  was 
sufficient.  It  had  happened  once.  It  might 
happen  again.  Who  knows 

One  day,  while  walking  in  the  narrow  streets 
of  the  older  native  city,  I saw  a man  lying 
prone  on  his  face,  his  back  bared  to  the  w^aist, 

132 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


and  another  fellow,  manifestly  a doctor,  hover- 
ing over  him.  As  the  spectacle  was  quite 
public  I had  no  hesitancy  in  standing  by.  The 
man  was  evidently  ailing;  he  may  have  over- 
eaten the  night  before  and  become  alarmed  at 
his  sudden  corpulency.  So  the  doctor  told 
him  to  lie  down.  When  I arrived  on  the  scene 
the  quack,  for  he  did  not  deserve  a better 
name,  had  taken  a small  knife  and  was  cutting 
little  crosses  up  and  down  either  side  of  the 
patient’s  spine.  The  crosses  were  of  the  sort 
we  all  recall  so  vividly  from  the  days  of  vac- 
cination. 

Mdien  the  blood  was  flowing  freely  the  quack 
shook  a green  powdered  stutt’,  made  of  dried 
herbs  and  cheap  incense,  over  the  bruised 
portions  of  the  skin.  Then  he  applied  a match 
to  each  little  pile.  The  incense  flared  up  with 
green  flames.  The  prostrate  wretch  writhed 
like  a man  undergoing  torture;  whereat  the 
quack  applied  plasters  of  an  unsanitary  looking 
nature.  This  w’as  the  end  of  the  treatment. 

It  all  reminded  me  of  the  ancient  saw’,  it 
takes  a devil  to  catch  a devil;  for  manifestly 
tills  is  what  the  operation  amounted  to.  In 
China  everything  active  is  a devil.  The  one 
exception  to  this  is  woman,  and  according  to 
Chinese  philosophy  she  is  passive.  The  other 
exception  is  man.  He  is  active,  but  he  is  not  a 

133 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


devil.  Mdierever  pain  exists,  it  is  necessary 
that  a counterbalancing  pain  be  brought  to 
bear.  It  is  unthinkable  that  little  pills,  unless 
they  contain  a narcotic,  can  palliate,  not  to 
mention  driving  away,  big  hurts.  It  is  a 
child’s  conception  of  science,  and  in  these  de- 
partments of  knowledge  the  Chinese  are,  like 
children,  vastly  amusing. 

One  evening  I heard  the  fire  bells  clanging 
down  the  street.  I looked  out  and  saw  a little 
shack,  a blacksmith’s  shop,  burning  merrily 
only  a hundred  yards  away.  I ran  down  in 
time  to  see  a procession  of  professional  fire 
fighters  form  a circle  round  the  doomed  build- 
ing and  commence  beating  copper  gongs  sus- 
pended from  their  necks.  In  due  time  a 
terrible  racket  was  evoked.  But  as  the  tones 
of  the  gong  sounded  louder,  the  flames  went 
higher,  and  the  end  of  it  you  can  see  for  your- 
selves. I suppose  the  firemen  thought  their 
duty  done  if  they  frightened  the  devil  away 
from  adjacent  buildings.  There  happened  to 
be  no  wind  that  night.  So  the  devil  did  not 
become  rampant.  Even  if  he  had  become 
rampant  and  razed  half  the  city,  the  populace 
would  not  have  blamed  their  priests.  Some 
one  had  done  a great  wrong,  and  the  fire  devil 
simply  would  not  hear  to  being  frightened 
away. 


134 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Devils  are  singularly  persistent  at  times, 
but  they  are  not  nearly  so  formidable  as  they 
look.  The  bulk  of  the  Chinese  are  on  quite 
intimate  terms  with  them.  In  fact,  they  have 
given  so  much  of  their  time  to  hobnobbing 
with  devils  that  they  have  failed  to  meet  their 
creator.  If  this  has  made  them  pagan,  it  has 
also  made  them  vital.  It  was  not  so  long  ago 
that  Christians  gave  considerable  attention  to 
the  devil,  Milton  not  excepted.  But  now  we 
have  lost  him,  and  there  seems  to  be  small 
likelihood  of  getting  him  back.  The  Chinese 
have  an  advantage  over  us  here.  They  could 
lose  a hundred  devils  and  still  have  a hundred 
more.  And  personifying  evils  is  much  safer 
than  abstracting  them.  If  you  abstract  them 
you  are  liable  to  draw  all  the  evil  out  of  them, 
and  this  is  a risky  matter.  The  Chinese  fear 
their  devils.  We  don’t  even  fear  our  God. 

Probably  no  superstition  ever  got  a securer 
hold  on  the  imaginations  of  the  people  than 
the  Boxer  one.  In  IMoukden  I heard  my  first 
tales  of  the  Boxers,  or  the  Society  of  the  Right- 
eous Fists.  I was  conversing  one  afternoon 
with  the  head  of  the  school  for  blind  girls, 
the  one  to  which  I committed  my  find  near 
the  Temple  of  Fertility.  This  gentleman  told 
me  of  the  days  when  all  suspected  Christian 
converts  were  approached  by  soldiers  armed 

135 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


with  swords.  A tiny  slip  of  white  paper  with 
the  characters  signifying  Yeh-su,  Jesus,  written 
thereon  was  thrust  into  the  suspected  one’s 
hands.  He  was  told  to  spit  upon  it  and  tram- 
ple it  under  foot.  Failing  this,  he  was  cut 
down  on  the  spot.  And  it  was  remarkable, 
according  to  this  gentleman,  how  many  were 
cut  down.  It  only  served  to  magnify  the 
already  great  admiration  I entertained  for 
them.  A martyr  must  always  be  a noble 
being,  even  though  we  pity  him. 

Other  missionaries  told  me  of  riding  off 
in  the  night,  their  children  clutching  their 
necks,  and  of  looking  back  to  see  their  homes 
in  flames.  The  Boxers  had  conceived  the 
idea  that  the  foreigner  was  a devil  and  an 
excessively  personal  one,  not  at  all  abstract. 
They  complimented  him  with  the  name  of 
Foreign  Devil,  and  to  this  day  the  children 
bawl  it  at  you  from  the  by-streets.  Evidently 
the  natives  tired  of  beating  gongs  at  the  air. 
The  lust  for  blood  had  been  slumbering  in 
their  veins  ever  since  the  Manchus  sheathed 
their  swords  over  the  Tartar  throne.  Here 
was  an  object  for  venom.  But  with  true  celes- 
tial wiliness  the  Chinese  invoked  the  aid  of 
the  spirits  temporarily  abandoned.  The  mas- 
ter stroke  was  distinctly  a pagan  one. 

The  Boxers  believed  that  the  bullets  from 
136 


MONUMENT  TO  BOXER  VICTIMS,  RUSSIAN  PARK,  TIENTSIN 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


their  adversaries’  rifles  were  incft’ectivc  against 
them.  And  so  long  as  this  belief  prevailed 
the  work  went  merrily  on.  It  is  recounted 
that  a particularly  astute  leader  demonstrated 
each  day  that  all  true  believers  were  invul- 
nerable. He  simply  removed  the  slugs  from 
a number  of  cartridges,  stood  the  selected 
apostles  against  a wall  a little  way  off,  and 
fired  at  them  in  rapid  succession.  The  sim- 
ple folk,  who  were  wont  to  associate  death 
at  the  hands  of  a foreigner  with  a very  loud 
noise,  were  thus  deluded  into  thinking  they 
really  were  immune.  Thousands  flocked  to 
the  banner  of  murder  and  pillage  which  cul- 
minated in  the  sieges  of  Peking  and  Tientsin. 

An  English  lady  who  was  a girl  of  fifteen 
in  those  memorable  summer  days  of  1900 
told  me  how  she  stood  on  the  roof  of  her  home 
and  watched  the  Boxers  dancing  outside  the 
foreign  soldiers’  entrenchments.  There  was 
• so  little  ammunition  left  that  the  soldiers 
dared  not  waste  a shot.  They  were  reserving 
everything  for  the  final  rush.  In  the  mean- 
time the  Boxers  worked  themselves  into  a 
stupendous  frenzy.  The  occasional  death  of 
one  of  their  number  in  no  wise  lessened  their 
faith  in  the  cause.  This  woman  remembers 
how  with  other  girls,  equally  reckless,  she 
ventured  into  the  native  city.  Hearing  the 

137 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


noise  of  riding  soldiers  she  dodged  into  a tum- 
bled hut.  She  was  terror-stricken.  She  ran 
into  something  that  swung  away  from  her 
and  then  swung  back  again,  nearly  knocking 
her  down.  When  she  recovered  her  senses 
she  saw  a dead  man  hanging  there  with  a 
horrible  grin  on  his  yellow  face.  No  doubt  a 
Christian  convert,  or  perhaps  a traitor.  She 
did  not  know.  She  only  remembers  turning 
into  the  open  again  and  fleeing  back  to  her  own 
house.  But  to  this  day,  so  she  told  me,  the 
face  of  that  dead  man  haunts  her.  She  sees 
him  in  her  dreams. 

Then  came  that  never-to-be-forgotten  day 
when  the  women  and  children  were  assembled 
in  the  Gordon  Hall,  which  is  the  heart  of  the 
British  concession,  and  the  men  took  up  the 
last  few  rounds  of  ammunition  to  await  the 
rush  that  momently  was  expected.  In  one 
sense  it  was  harder  for  the  men  than  for  the 
women.  As  for  the  children,  they  enjoyed 
every  moment  of  it,  for  they  had  never  ex- 
pected to  experience  in  reality  the  pages  of 
Cooper.  But  there  was  one  thing  the  women 
never  knew  until  the  danger  was  past. 

The  Englishmen  had  gotten  together  and 
decreed  that  when  all  hope  was  past  they 
would  put  their  dear  ones  out  of  harm’s  way 
with  their  own  tender  hands.  To  make  it 

138 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


easier,  each  man  was  assigned  somebody  else’s 
family.  For  never  would  Englishmen  allow 
the  ones  they  loved  to  fall  into  the  power  of 
the  fanatic  Boxers.  It  was  a terrible  resolve 
for  men  to  have  to  make.  But  fortunately 
it  w’as  not  carried  out.  A rider  came  through 
to  Taku  and  another  sun  saw  troops  marching 
into  the  city.  Thus  were  the  foreigners  spared 
a terrible  death,  for  the  cruelty  of  fanaticism 
knows  no  bounds.  The  end  of  summer  wit- 
nessed the  collapse  of  the  Boxer  movement,  a 
movement  which  never  will  have  a rebirth. 
For  China  is  fast  putting  away  her  devils, 
an  example  set  her  by  the  western  world. 
Who  will  give  her  a God.^ 


139 


CHAPTER  X 


From  Tientsin  it  was  only  an  overnight’s 
journey  into  the  hinterland.  On  occasional 
holidays,  and  others,  I slipped  out  of  the  teem- 
ing bustle  of  the  Chinese  city  and  ran  down  by 
night  to  Shanhaikwan,  where  the  sea,  the  hills, 
and  the  great  wall  come  together.  Here  it  is 
that  the  Manchus  commenced  their  conquest 
of  the  Middle  Kingdom.  The  great  wall,  a 
penciled  streak  of  gray  pouring  down  from  the 
peaks  of  the  farther  hills  to  bury  itself  in  the 
sea,  was  supposed  to  be  an  impassable  barrier. 
But  the  hardy  Manchus  constructed  a handful 
of  ships  and  simply  sailed  around,  landing  on 
the  Chinese  side.  To-day,  the  obvious  antiquity 
of  the  landscape  is  the  chiefest  charm  of  the 
place,  if  one  except  the  North  Hotel,  where  the 
opium  smugglers  from  Siberia  congregate. 

I always  stayed  at  the  North  Hotel,  where 
great  bearded  Russians  with  Japanese  wives, 
and  Amazon-like  women  with  no  husbands, 
but  plenty  of  lovers,  seemed  to  while  their  time 
away.  At  ten  in  the  morning  they  came  in 
their  outlandish  kimonos  and  Japanese  slippers 

140 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


into  the  main  salon,  which  had  a bar  in  one 
corner  and  a dining  table  in  another,  with 
card  tables  and  couches  strewn  between.  They 
were  a motley  crowd.  But  it  needed  only  a 
glass  of  grenadine  and  soda  to  make  me  one 
of  them. 

There  was  the  Countess  Korisoff,  a ripened 
woman  of  thirty-eight  years  who  once  must 
have  been  beautiful.  Even  now'  she  would 
have  looked  handsome  had  she  been  tidy.  She 
was  a superb  blond.  M’hen  she  moved  about 
it  was  with  a sort  of  conscious  strength,  as  if 
she  knew  she  could  have  given  birth  to  a 
race  of  supermen  but  disdained  anyone  short 
of  a god  as  their  father.  She  spoke  in  a rich 
mellow  voice  that  caused  the  nondescripts  at 
the  tables  to  drop  their  cards  from  their  hands 
when  she  entered  the  room.  And  w'hen  she 
reclined  on  her  couch  and  began  playing  La 
Cloche  Solitaire  on  a little  lacquer  table  she 
had  commandeered  for  that  purpose,  the  rest 
of  the  company  threw  up  their  games  in 
despair,  and  clustered  around  and  over  her, 
passing  remarks  that  w'ould  have  caused  an 
average  mortal  to  faint,  but  whose  only 
apparent  effect  on  the  Countess  Korisoff  was 
seen  in  the  parting  of  her  lips  to  smile  as  the 
pack  in  her  jeweled  hands  grew  smaller  and 
ever  smaller. 


141 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


There  was  also  Nikko-san,  the  Japanese 
mistress  of  an  intelligent  Greek,  who  smiled 
so  sweetly  on  me  in  the  morning  when  I came 
in  to  breakfast.  I sat  at  table  with  her  while 
she  read  my  hands.  She  spoke  pretty,  broken 
English  which  she  had  learned,  no  doubt,  as  a 
singing  girl  before  this  Greek  offered  her  a 
permanent  attachment.  Plentiful  jet-black  hair 
fell  by  its  own  weight  to  her  shoulders.  She 
wore  it  parted  in  the  middle,  which  is  not  at 
all  the  Japanese  custom.  But  I liked  it  best 
that  way,  for  it  gave  her  a look  decidedly 
French  and  so  enhanced  her  attractiveness. 

Because  of  her  beauty  the  Greek  was  jealous 
of  her  and  often  cast  wicked  glances  in  my 
direction.  But  the  Countess  Korisoff,  who 
could  read  men  like  open  books,  became  my 
constant  benefactress  in  this  matter.  So  long 
as  the  Greek  merely  glanced  in  our  direction 
we  were  safe.  But  when  he  lifted  his  head 
high  from  his  shoulders,  and  nearly  closed  his 
eyes,  and  gripped  the  edges  of  the  table  with 
his  wiry  narcotic  fingers,  the  countess  always 
called  out,  Attention,  mes  chers.” 

The  company  thought  this  a signal  to  gather 
around  her  couch,  but  I knew,  by  previous 
arrangement,  that  it  was  intended  for  our- 
selves, for  Nikko-san  and  me.  I can  still  hear 
that  vibrant  voice,  like  a contralto’s  taking  her 

142 


RAILWAY  PIERCING  THE  GREAT  WALL  AT  SHANHAIKWAN 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


pitch,  ^"Attention,  mes  chers,”  whenever  I meet 
with  danger.  The  Greek  took  Nikko-san  away 
one  night,  and  for  the  rest  of  my  stay  I had  to 
be  content  with  a Russian  ex-officer,  who  told 
me  tales  of  the  running. 

Poor  Ma\Tomaras,  the  proprietor  of  the 
North  Hotel,  had  seen  better  days  too.  He 
had  vision,  but  fate  abused  him  cruelly.  When 
it  became  evident  that  the  decisive  battle  of 
the  Russo-Japanese  War  would  be  fought  at 
Moukden,  Mavromaras  put  his  entire  fortune, 
two  hundred  thousand  roubles  (which  was  a 
fortune  in  those  days),  into  champagne,  and 
secreted  it  in  a small  village  bordering  the 
battle  field.  It  was  his  idea,  as  it  was  the 
whole  world’s,  that  Russia  would  be  victorious. 
But  the  Japanese  won,  and  a marauding  band 
discovered  the  liquid  hoard.  The  result  was  a 
riotous  debauch,  in  which  two  hundred  thou- 
sand roubles  worth  of  honeyed  nectar  went 
down  the  throats  of  those  who  had  never 
tasted  it  before.  Mavromaras  went  back  to 
Shanhaikwan,  a broken  man.  But  the  North 
Hotel  attests  to  his  recuperative  ability,  and 
by  the  time  the  next  battle  of  Moukden  is 
fought,  he  may  be  ready  to  try  the  wheel  again. 

“^Miat  percentage  of  opium  do  we  get?” 
I asked  Kochalski,  the  Russian  ex-officer,  one 
evening  after  the  others  had  retired.  By 

143 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“we”  I meant  the  Chinese  customs  adminis- 
tration of  which  I was  an  executive  oflBcial. 

He  fingered  his  yellow  mustache  an  un- 
conscionable while  before  he  ventured  to 
answer.  Looking  at  me  with  nearly  emotion- 
less cold  blue  eyes  he  seemed  to  be  piercing  the 
secret  places  of  my  soul.  Finally,  as  if  satisfied 
that  I had  no  intention  of  spying,  he  said 
offhandedly,  “Oh,  maybe  one  tenth,  maybe 
less.” 

“You  mean,”  I returned,  “that  nine  tenths 
of  the  stuff  goes  through!” 

“Precisely.”  And  then  he  added,  with  a 
humorous  glint  to  his  eyes,  “Did  you  really 
believe  your  administration  more  successful?” 

“That  doesn’t  matter  to  me,”  I said.  “My 
interest  in  the  work  is  not  a moral  one.  Do 
you  mind  telling  me  some  of  the  ways  it  goes 
through?” 

“Probing  professional  secrets?”  Kochalski 
queried. 

“On  my  honor,”  I commenced,  but  he  cut 
me  short. 

“Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  we  shouldn’t 
get  a half  of  it  through,  weren’t  the  Chinese 
so  amenable.” 

“A  case  of  money  talking,  I suppose.” 

“Precisely.  In  this  instance  money  is  more 
loquacious  than  women.” 

144 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“But  the  method,”  I interposed.  I was 
sleepy.  Kochalski  was  Siberia  bound  in  the 
morning. 

“Always  a simple  one,”  he  replied.  “The 
bulk  of  it  doesn’t  come  this  way  at  all.  We 
operate  this  line  chiefly  as  a ruse.  Do  you 
happen  to  know  the  treaty  rights  on  Indian 
cotton?” 

“What  has  cotton  to  do  with  the  drug?”  I 
questioned  blankly. 

“Just  this.  India  cotton,  by  treaty  stipula- 
tion, goes  into  Shanghai  baled.  Which  means 
that  it  is  exempt  from  examination.  Of  course, 
one  of  your  officers  can  run  a steel  probe  into  a 
bale.  I must  correct  my  grammar.  He  may 
run  it  in,  if  he  can.  Did  you  ever  attempt  to 
run  a probe  into  a bale  of  India  machine- 
pressed  cotton?” 

I wagged  my  head  in  negation. 

“Well,  it  can’t  be  done,”  he  said.  “So  we 
simply  introduce  a quantity  of  the  stuff  into 
each  bale.  Did  it  never  strike  you  as  odd  that 
so  much  Japanese  cotton  is  transshipped  to 
India,  re-baled  there,  and  finally  consigned  to  a 
treaty  port?  Every  one  of  those  bales  carries 
opium  or  worse.  But  that  is  the  big  method. 
The  lesser  ones  are  more  amusing.” 

“If  you  are  not  too  tired,  go  on,”  I inter- 
calated. 


145 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Hardly  a coal  tender  goes  through  but 
what  contains,  buried  far  beneath  the  coal,  a 
bit  of  coagulated  poppy  juice.  We  give  the 
engineer  and  stoker  a number  of  pieces  of 
silver.  Nature  does  the  rest;  human  nature,  I 
mean.  Why  are  so  many  Japanese  women 
traveling  up  and  down  the  line.^  Because  they 
have  such  a gorgeous  suflBciency  of  hair.  Being 
accustomed  to  carry  burdens  on  their  crowns,  a 
mere  matter  of  a few  ounces  of  the  drug  is 
easily  met.  Soldiers’  rifles  have  many  advan- 
tages. The  muzzles  can  be  plugged  and  so  cut 
off  the  smell.  What  is  your  English  word  for 
smelly?” 

“Pungent,”  I replied. 

“Well,  opium  is  exceedingly  pungent.  Give 
me  a windless  night  and  a pound  of  opium 
within  a quarter  mile  and  it’s  mine.  Of  course 
there  are  a hundred  ways  of  concealing  the 
stuff.  You  can  think  of  most  of  them  your- 
self. But  the  great  lubricant  of  the  trade  is 
silver,  much  fine  silver.  Now  if  you  were  an 
ordinary  officer,  instead  of  an  official,  I might 
make  you  an  offer.” 

“Make  it,  anyway,”  I suggested. 

“Would  twenty  thousand  a year  strike  you 
as  being  small?” 

“It  would  keep  me  in  cigarettes  for  a millen- 
nium,” I countered  jestingly. 

146 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“We  won’t  wait  that  long.  Have  one  now.” 
He  extended  towards  me  a black  damascene 
case  with  a gold  dragon  engraved  thereon,  and 
I selected  a gold-tipped  Russian  smoke  that 
made  my  senses  swim  before  I lighted  it. 
When  I recovered  them  Kochalski  was  gone. 
So  I smuggled  myself  to  sleep. 

Had  the  opium  trade  ever  been  one  half  so 
bad  as  the  missionaries  picture  it,  China  would 
have  long  since  been  lulled  to  a dreamless 
sleep.  By  the  conscious  reformer  the  slightest 
evil  is  magnified  until  it  becomes  an  all- 
embracing  sin.  So  far  as  I have  been  able  to 
determine,  opium  has  never  had  the  effect 
on  China  that  beer  has  had  on  the  Germans, 
or  absinthe  on  the  French,  not  to  mention 
whisky,  which  is  now  openly  prohibited,  on  the 
United  States.  I always  had  a desire  to  draw 
on  an  opium  pipe.  It  is  one  of  the  few  pleas- 
ures I have  never  had,  and  perhaps  when  I go 
to  my  last  couch  I will  call  for  the  heart  of  a 
poppy  which  is  said  to  bring  heaven  to  earth. 

An  eminent  member  of  the  Republican 
cabinet  one  day  journeyed  toward  the  south. 
No  one  thought  anything  of  this.  In  China 
cabinet  ministers  are  constantly  traveling.  In 
fact,  they  do  little  else.  But  when  this  par- 
ticular statesman  reached  Shanghai,  his  move- 
ments, or  rather  the  accessories  to  them,  be- 

147 


THE  CHAKM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


came,  so  to  speak,  public  property.  His  lug- 
gage amounted  to  some  thirty  pieces.  And 
twenty-two  of  them  were  packed  as  snugly  with 
raw  opium  as  if  they  had  been  made  expressly 
for  the  drug.  As  the  cabinet  convened  rather 
suddenly  that  week,  this  statesman  hurried 
back  to  sit  with  others  as  scoundrelly  as  he. 
If  those  high  up  act  in  this  wise,  what  can  be 
expected  of  the  poor  devils  who  live  by  the 
trade. ^ Which  reminds  me  of  the  manner 
editorials  read  in  our  modern  papers.  Pagan 
China  and  Christian  America,  which  is  to  be 
interpreted.  The  Devil  and  the  Deep  Blue  Sea. 

One  clause  of  a treaty  respecting  the  seizure 
of  opium  reads  that  whenever  a quantity  of 
drug  is  seized,  the  container  and  all  adjacent 
articles  thereto  shall  be  confiscated  with  it. 
This  gives  rise  to  some  delicate  situations. 
One  morning  I was  sitting  in  my  office  specu- 
lating as  to  which  of  a number  of  ponies  was 
most  likely  to  win  the  Champions  Sweep  when 
I heard  a timid  knock  on  the  door.  I took  my 
feet  off  the  desk,  rustled  my  sack  coat  onto 
my  shoulders,  and  said  in  a responsible  voice, 
“Come  in.”  I was,  to  say  the  least,  thoroughly 
unprepared  for  the  sight  that  met  my  eyes. 

A handsome  slip  of  a girl,  wearing  something 
that  resembled  an  antiquated  evening  dress, 
crossed  the  threshold  dragging  after  her  a 

148 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


youngish  man  in  a suit  of  yellow  pyjamas.  He 
wore  an  astrakhan  hat  and  carried  a fur-lined 
coat  on  his  arm.  It  was  the  middle  of  July. 
The  man  could  not  speak  a word  of  English  or 
Chinese  or  French  or  German  or  Latin.  So  I 
turned  to  the  woman  for  an  explanation.  She 
spoke  excessively  broken  English,  interspersed 
with  Russian  swear-words. 

Little  by  little  the  story  came  out.  The 
train  by  which  they  had  arrived  was  the  early 
one.  They  had  been  awakened  just  outside 
the  city  and  searched.  Both  of  them  were  in 
bed  at  the  time.  The  customs  officer  uncov- 
ered some  twenty  pounds  of  morphine  in  their 
bags,  and,  remembering  the  words  of  the 
treaty,  he  had  confiscated  everything  in  sight, 
the  bulk  of  which  was  clothes, — shimmering 
lingerie,  stiff  cavalry  boots,  coarse  woolens, 
and  no  end  of  little  things.  The  result  was 
indeed  lamentable.  The  girl  and  the  youngish 
man  were  put  to  the  necessity  of  coming  to  me 
just  as  they  were.  It  is  fortunate  the  night 
had  been  cool.  Otherwise  I might  have  seen 
the  second  Garden  of  Eden  enacted  before  my 
eyes. 

The  girl  pleaded  for  their  clothing.  Tears 
were  in  her  eyes  and  I would  have  accommo- 
dated her  in  any  possibly  way,  but  treaties  are 
not  made  by  Englishmen  to  be  broken.  The 

149 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


best  that  I could  do  was  to  offer  to  write  a 
letter  to  her  consul  (they  both  were  Russians) 
and  hope  that  the  weather  would  continue 
mild.  The  man  gesticulated  wildly  when  she 
told  him  how  powerless  I was.  But  the  girl 
gave  me  a tremulous  smile  through  her  tears 
and  dragged  her  impassioned  companion  into 
the  lobby.  That  night  I started  to  learn  the 
Russian  language. 

Late  one  afternoon  in  August  of  1918  a 
Hsun-pu,  or  revenue  soldier,  came  into  my 
office  with  his  mouth  all  shot  away.  The 
bullet  must  have  been  a large  one,  for  it  had 
sheared  off  his  teeth  as  if  they  had  been  so 
much  wool.  He  babbled  to  me  unintelligibly 
through  his  bleeding  lips  what  he  deemed  a 
pitiful  story.  A Chinese  writer,  a particularly 
astute  man,  gave  me  the  gist  of  the  tale. 

The  Hsun-pu  knew  his  duty  and  did  it,  but 
at  the  cost  of  his  teeth.  A big  fat  Chinese 
general,  than  whom  nothing  is  bigger  or  fatter, 
had  contended  that,  being  a general  and  very 
much  removed  from  common  men,  he  was 
not  subject  to  search  in  the  usual  way.  The 
Hsun-pu,  whose  nostrils  were  untowardly  sensi- 
tive, became  rightly  aggressive.  I can  picture 
the  big  fat  general  sitting  there  with  his  boots 
off  and  his  feet  curled  under  him  like  a josh. 
No  doubt  his  breast  was  gleaming  with  medals. 

150 


A RIVER  PIRATE  AT  HOME 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Some  of  his  nails  were  long  so  that  when  he 
brushed  his  face  it  was  with  the  heel  of  his 
hand.  Then  he  would  scratch  his  close-cropped 
head  and  blink  with  swinish  contentment. 

But  the  Hsun-pu  was  obdurate,  and  in  the 
end  the  general  had  drawn  his  IMauser  and 
taken  a pot-shot  at  my  Hsun-pu’s  head.  It 
was  quite  a random  shot,  merely  raking  the 
poor  fellow’s  teeth.  The  general  was  forcibly 
pacified  by  foreign  officers  and  there  the 
incident  ended.  My  Ilsun-pu  was  not  like 
Spinny,  who  put  toads  in  her  mouth.  He 
submitted  to  being  tortured  by  an  American 
dentist,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month  came  in 
to  show  me  two  rows  of  false  gleaming  ivories. 

But  if  this  Hsun-pu  was  a heroic  fellow  and 
richly  deserving  of  the  thirty  cents’  increase  in 
his  weekly  pay,  I had  another  who  played  me 
utterly  false.  I had  suspicions  of  him,  so  one 
night  I ordered  a raid  on  his  quarters.  The 
result  was  truly  astounding.  Besides  bringing 
to  light  three  huge  chests  of  gold  and  silver 
ornaments,  jade  earrings,  and  American  twenty 
dollar  gold  eagles  which  the  natives  especially 
prize,  we  uncovered  beneath  a maze  of  costly 
silks  two  little  girls  from  Ningpo.  The  Ningpo 
girls  are  famous  for  their  beauty,  and  my 
Hsun-pu,  whatever  his  other  faults,  was  a 
connoisseur  in  women.  The  little  things  were 

151 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


not  so  frightened  as  they  seemed.  They  told 
me  quite  openly  that  they  had  been  bought  for 
eighty  silver  dollars.  Since  there  is  a Customs 
Administration  in  Ningpo,  we  ordered  their 
parents  to  buy  them  back  again.  This  was 
hard  on  the  parents  and  harder  on  the  girls, 
for  no  doubt  they  were  severely  beaten  and 
sold  again  for  a price  much  lower  than  eighty 
silver  dollars,  which,  after  all,  is  a lot  of  money 
in  China. 

The  Hsun-pu  was  merely  discharged.  The 
manner  in  which  he  had  acquired  his  fortune 
amounting  to  some  seventy  thousand  taels  is 
not  uninteresting.  With  others  he  had  watched 
native  smugglers  go  into  shops  and  buy  their 
modicums  of  drug.  When  they  came  out  again 
they  were  seized,  their  purchases,  usually 
opium,  taken  forcibly  from  them  in  the  name 
of  the  law  and  turned  over  to  my  Hsun-pu, 
who  himself  had  a ready  market  for  the  stuff. 
It  was  a beautiful  game,  without  a flaw  in  it 
but  over-prosperity.  The  Ningpo  girls  had 
displayed  too  many  golden  trinkets,  some  one 
had  babbled,  and  it  came  to  my  ears.  The 
big  officials  in  Peking  acquire  fortunes  in  a like 
manner,  but,  as  in  our  own  country,  it  is 
always  safer  to  abscond  with  a million  than 
with  a loaf  of  bread. 

I had  early  impressed  it  on  my  chief  outdoor 
152 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


officer  that  he  was  to  apprise  me  whenever  a 
river  raid  was  planned.  So  it  was  with  a quite 
agreeable  thrill  that  I heard  him  say  a large 
quantity  of  drug  was  expected  on  a junk  that 
evening.  Ordinarily  a junk  is  not  searched  till 
it  passes  a barrier,  but  in  this  case  special 
information  had  been  given  and  a dozen  men’s 
veins  were  a-tingle.  Quite  sizable  rewards  w^ere 
made  for  seizures.  It  was  the  only  legitimate 
way  the  men  had  of  augmenting  their  salaries. 

It  was  one  of  those  starry  moonless  nights 

when  the  city  was  asleep  and  I could  hear  the 

bells  of  the  hawkers  tinkling  far  over  the 

countryside.  We  took  a sampan,  or  small 

boat,  and  skirted  the  crumbling  bank  for  up- 

w'ards  of  two  miles.  There  w^ere  a thousand 
> 

other  craft  on  the  river  so  no  one  gave  us 
particular  attention.  We  all  w^ore  Chinese 
long  coats  and  soft  hats,  the  raggeder  the 
better.  Every  man  of  us  was  w^atching  for  a 
junk  displaying  a yellow  light  on  her  bow.  An 
adventurous  Hsun-pu  had  marked  our  prey. 
Those  aboard  were  delightfully  unaware  of 
the  imminence  of  the  law\ 

Junk  after  junk  w*e  passed,  and  always  we 
peered  for  the  sign  of  a yellow'  light.  One 
native  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  light  had 
gone  out.  The  current,  he  said,  should  have 
borne  the  junk  down  river  long  before  this. 

153 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


His  argument  struck  me  as  being  so  likely  that 
I turned  to  see  who  he  was.  A suppressed 
“Ai-yah”  was  wafted  gently  to  my  ears.  I 
turned  at  once,  and  there,  looming  out  of  the 
lower  darkness  like  a giant  of  night,  rested  a 
huge  junk  with  a little  yellow  light  gleaming 
just  under  her  bow.  She  was  at  anchor.  Her 
crew  were  probably  below,  completing  arrange- 
ments for  hauling  the  booty  ashore. 

We  drifted  quietly  to  the  stern,  but,  try  as 
we  would,  we  could  not  prevent  our  sampan 
striking  the  hull  with  a grating  noise.  Quick 
as  a flash  naked  feet  paddled  to  the  side,  a 
peering  yellow  face  was  thrust  downward  into 
the  darkness,  and  a hoarse  voice  called  in  a 
whisper  '‘Shui?”  One  of  the  Hsun-pu  an- 
swered, “It  is  us.  We  have  lost  our  oar.  Get 
us  another  one  quick.”  The  ruse  worked. 
The  naked  feet  paddled  toward  the  bow.  It 
was  our  chance. 

As  one  man  we  clambered  noiselessly  over  the 
side  and  hid  ourselves  in  the  shadows  on  the 
deck.  A big  Hsun-pu  awaited  the  return  of  the 
native  with  the  oar.  He  came  dragging  his 
burden,  his  head  bent  down.  With  one  hand 
clapped  over  his  mouth  and  the  other  pressed 
at  the  nape  of  the  smuggler’s  neck,  the  Hsun-pu 
picked  him  bodily  from  the  deck  and  set  him 
before  me. 


154 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Hold  him  until  we  get  safely  below,”  I 
whispered  in  Chinese.  “Then  drop  him  in  the 
river.” 

I drew  my  pistol  and  led  the  men  below. 
There  was  really  little  danger  except  from 
knives.  The  odors  from  the  hold  were  appal- 
ling. It  seemed  impossible  that  humans  should 
exist  in  such  a place. 

From  a near  by  corner  came  the  sound  of 
clinking  silver.  I looked  penetratingly  in  that 
direction  until  I could  barely  make  out  a light 
glowing  duskily  through  a sort  of  burlap 
wall.  In  one  moment  we  had  surrounded  the 
musty  curtains.  In  another  we  thrust  them 
aside. 

Prone  on  the  floor  were  three  immense 
coffins,  over  wffiich  six  or  seven  nearly  naked 
men  were  laboring  under  the  orders  of  one  only 
a shade  more  clothed  than  they.  The  men 
were  binding  the  coffins  round  and  round  with 
a kind  of  oiled  silk.  They  might  have  been  so 
many  Egyptian  undertakers  sheathing  mum- 
mies. At  sight  of  us  they  leaped  back  against 
the  beams,  their  black  eyes  quivering  with 
fear  that  fast  turned  to  hatred.  Their  chief 
stood  stolidly  without  a smile. 

“Fao  shen  mo?”  he  muttered  finally.  “What 
do  you  want?” 

“Up  to  the  old  game,  eh,”  returned  my 
155 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


chief  outdoor  officer,  who  seemed  to  recognize 
the  man. 

“Old  game;  what  old  game?”  asked  the 
wily  native. 

“Come  on  now,”  said  my  chief,  “open  up 
and  it  will  go  easy  with  you.” 

“Corpses  smell,”  returned  the  native  sneer- 
ingly.  The  half  dozen  Chinese  coolies  against 
the  wall  leered  with  delight  at  this  witticism  of 
their  leader. 

“So  they’re  corpses,  are  they?”  my  officer 
laughed. 

For  answer  the  native  chief  motioned  two  of 
his  men  to  open  the  middle  box.  The  outside 
ones  were  already  swathed.  Sure  enough! 
When  the  lid  was  removed  nothing  more  than 
the  shriveled  face  of  a very  old  man  met 
our  eyes.  My  officer  bent  his  head  down  and 
rustled  his  hands  up  and  down  the  corpse.  He 
straightened  as  if  satisfied. 

“And  the  others  are  the  same,  I suppose,” 
he  said,  with  an  affected  sincerity. 

'‘Shill,”  replied  the  native  leader.  “A  boy 
and  an  old  lady.” 

“The  whole  family,  eh,”  quickly  returned 
my  chief.  “What  a coincidence!” 

And  then  he  took  his  six-shooter  from  his 
coat  pocket.  His  eyes  no  longer  had  a kindly 
glint  in  them.  “Open  them  up,”  he  shouted, 

156 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


and  to  leave  no  doubt  as  to  the  intent  behind 
his  words,  he  emptied  his  pistol  into  the  un- 
resisting coffins,  but  not  before  I had  covered 
the  glowering  natives  with  mine. 

“Open  them  up,”  my  chief  repeated  threat- 
eningly. 

The  Chinese  smuggler  shrugged  his  shoulders 
despondently  and  signaled  his  coolies  to  com- 
ply with  my  officer’s  demand. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  moments  to  rip  off 
the  filmy  silk  and  pry  the  lids  from  their 
places.  The  sight  that  met  our  eyes  was  good 
to  see.  The  odor  from  eight  hundred  pounds 
of  raw  Persian  opium  rose  to  our  already 
jaded  nostrils.  As  one  man  we  involuntarily 
rushed  forward.  All  except  the  smuggler. 
Wrenching  my  officer’s  pistol  from  his  hand 
the  wily  Chinese  dashed  into  the  darkness.  I 
heard  six  distinct  clicks  of  steel  against  steel 
as  he  scrambled  up  the  ladder.  Then,  dis- 
gusted, he  threw  the  weapon  into  the  hold  and 
splashed  over  the  side  for  the  shore. 

It  was  easy  to  dispose  of  the  others.  They 
were  put  to  work  carrying  the  two  coffins  that 
mattered  up  to  the  deck.  Had  they  let  them 
fall,  there  would  have  been  a number  of  broken 
legs,  for  the  coffins  were  great  oaken  affairs 
that  could  withstand  the  elements  for  a hun- 
dred years.  In  the  end  the  poor  coolies  were 

157 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


turned  over  to  the  local  magistrate  and  prob- 
ably beaten.  The  opium  was  taken  down  river 
and  put  under  lock  and  key  until  a date  was 
assigned  for  the  burning.  And  there  the 
matter  lay. 

The  smuggler  no  doubt  is  still  commandeer- 
ing corpses  for  his  nefarious  trade.  Ordinarily 
the  dead  are  respected.  But  in  China  they 
have  a utility  all  their  own. 

My  French  friend,  Holstein,  an  eminent 
Chinese  scholar,  loved  to  recount  the  early  days 
of  his  service.  The  first  document  that  came  to 
his  hands,  he  said,  was  inscribed  with  the  fol- 
lowing words,  “Please  pass  coffin  with  corpse.” 
Which  struck  me  as  being  much  ado  about 
next  to  nothing. 


158 


CH’iKX  MKX  GATK,  I'KKIXG 


IX  THE  HEART  OF  THE  IVESTEIiX  HILLS 


CH\PTER  XI 


Transfer  was  ever  hanging  in  the  air.  To- 
day here,  to-morrow  there.  China  was  big 
and  vibrant  with  life.  Every  locality  had  a 
delectable  charm  of  its  own.  One  city  was 
famed  for  its  women,  another  for  its  landscape, 
and  yet  a third  for  its  food.  I had  grown  to 
look  on  the  north  as  my  home.  I knew  it 
intimately.  The  western  hills,  the  Manchurian 
plains,  the  Mongolian  steppes  with  the  Great 
Wall  pulsing  twixt  earth  and  heaven,  the 
tortuous  yellow  rivers  and  the  uneven  roads, — 
all  these  were  more  than  names  to  me.  They 
were  hearts  beating  in  sympathy  with  my  own. 

But  China  was  not  yet  completely  mine. 
The  Devils  and  the  Gods  connived  at  their 
latest  scheme.  To  begin  with  it  struck  me  as 
altogether  de\dlish.  But  I learned  to  look  on 
it  as  a gift  from  the  lesser  angels.  I was  at 
Peitaiho,  the  Newport  of  the  north  China 
shore,  passing  the  summer  of  1919  with  friends. 
Every  hour  of  it  had  been  heaven-sent.  We 
were  a little  colony  of  exiles.  The  sea,  that 
precious  element  that  ran  out  to  kiss  my  own 

159 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


New  England  shores,  lay  in  front  of  us  be- 
calmed. Over  the  rim  of  the  distant  hills  at 
our  backs  China  glowered.  We  were  glad  for 
this  moment  of  quiet.  It  was  like  breathing 
mountain  air. 

On  the  29th  of  July,  my  commissioner, 
Percy  Romilly  Walsham,  one  of  the  finest 
English  gentlemen  I have  ever  known,  whose 
father.  Sir  John,  was  a distinguished  British 
Ambassador  to  China,  intercepted  me  in  the 
middle  of  my  dreams  with  the  news  of  my 
transfer  to  Mengtsz.  Mengtsz!  The  very  edge 
of  the  world!  For  Mengtsz  was  a couple  of 
thousand  miles  to  the  south,  not  far  from 
Burma,  and  near  the  heart  of  the  Tonkinese 
jungle-land.  Mengtsz  (pronounced  as  it  is 
spelled)  meant  the  tropics.  The  north  had  been 
beautiful  but  nature  was  not  luxuriant  there. 
She  did  not  spill  over  like  a full  goblet  of  rich 
red  wine.  But  Mengtsz!  I began  to  dream 
and  my  dream  fell  short  of  true. 

I coasted  down  to  Hongkong,  that  British 
paradise  of  the  sea,  where  the  twinkling  lights 
on  the  Peak  at  evening  shine  like  the  lower 
stars.  At  Hongkong  I boarded  the  Andre 
Lebon,  one  of  the  big  Messagerie  Maritime 
liners,  that  has  had  the  distinction  of  turning 
turtle  and  being  righted  again.  Speedily  we 
cut  our  way  towards  the  Hainan  Sea,  a 

IGO 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


diminutive  ocean  that  lies  with  treacherous 
invitingness  between  South  China  and  Singa- 
pore. In  itself  the  Hainan  Sea  hardly  deserves 
such  an  unworthy  adjective.  But  the  creatures 
that  it  harbors  are  the  most  treacherous  ones 
of  the  deep.  For  the  Hainan  Sea  is  infested 
with  sharks,  huge  sportive  fellows  that  race 
along  with  the  ship  with  all  the  frolicsomeness 
of  dolphins.  Let  merely  a loaf  of  bread  be  cast 
on  the  waves,  and  there  will  ensue  an  angry 
rush  that  will  cause  the  beholder  to  tremble. 
Once  I saw"  such  a rush  wdien  tw"o  sharks 
somehow"  inadvertently  bit  into  each  other. 
Their  own  blood  spelled  their  doom.  For  their 
fellow's,  enraged  by  the  reddened  waters, 
rushed  on  them  w’ith  bristling  mouths.  I have 
seen  Manchurian  dogs  act  in  a similar  manner 
when  one  of  their  number  w'ent  down. 

In  the  center  of  the  Hainan  Sea  there  is  a 
sand  bar,  and  on  the  sand  bar  rests  the  rusting 
hull  of  a little  tramp.  I have  seen  such  sights 
in  profusion  along  the  Florida  coast.  But  this 
one  has  a history.  In  the  w'inter  of  1917  a 
batch  of  some  sixty  coolies  was  being  trans- 
ferred from  Hongkong  to  the  Straits  Settle- 
ments. They  must  have  been  huddled  to- 
gether like  cattle,  for  the  tramp  was  not 
much  larger  than  a tugboat.  In  a rolling  sea 
she  grounded  off  the  bar  and  the  heat  from 

161 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  sun  set  fire  to  her  bunkers.  The  warmth 
becoming  unbearable,  the  coolies  flung  them- 
selves into  the  sea  and  made  for  the  sand  bar, 
only  a hundred  yards  away.  The  w^ater  was 
barely  over  their  heads.  The  majority  of 
them  soon  were  wading  through  the  long  swells 
of  the  surf.  But  only  seventeen  reached  the 
bar.  The  sharks  made  merry  havoc  with  the 
others.  I watched  the  forsaken  tramp  until 
it  melted  into  the  early  glow  of  evening.  It 
charmed  me  as  a snake  charms  a bird.  Then 
I turned  shudderingly  below. 

That  evening  we  congregated  in  the  smoking 
room  of  the  Andre  Lebon.  There  were  a 
Boer  from  Johannesburg,  an  Englishman  from 
Hongkong,  an  American  rice  merchant  from 
San  Francisco,  and  a New  Englander.  The 
talk,  when  it  had  done  with  women,  drifted 
on  to  books.  The  Englishman,  it  seems,  had 
made  a find.  The  Boer  wanted  something  to 
read.  So  the  Englishman  came  to  the  rescue. 

“Try  ‘Treasure  Island,’”  he  said.  “It’s  a 
new  book,  published  by  Kelly  and  Walsh  of 
Shanghai.  It’s  recent  and  it’s  interesting.  I 
bought  it  to  read  on  the  trip.” 

“‘Treasure  Island,”’  returned  the  Boer,  in 
a reminiscent  sort  of  voice. 

“Yes,  that’s  it,  ‘Treasure  Island,’”  affirmed 
the  Englishman. 


162 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“But  my  mother  read  me  ‘Treasure  Island’ 
thirty  years  ago.” 

“Here’s  a lark,”  laughed  the  Briton.  “Boys 
shall  we  put  him  to  bed.^  Pereeival,  you’ve 
been  nursing  the  bottle  alone.  It’s  not 
fair.  I thought  we’d  agreed  to  get  drunk 
together.” 

“Laugh,  laugh!”  returned  the  exasperated 
South  African  colonist,  “but  I tell  you  my 
mother  read  me  ‘Treasure  Island’  with  me 
in  her  lap.” 

“\Yhat  a big  baby!”  interpolated  the  smiling 
Briton.  “Wait!  I’ll  get  the  book.” 

In  a moment  he  was  back  and  displaying 
with  sublime  confidence  the  imprint,  1917. 

“There,”  he  said.  “Do  you  w^ant  anything 
more; 

“But,  man,”  returned  the  Boer,  whom  I 
was  kicking  desperately  under  the  table,  “this 
is  merely  a reprint.  The  old  edition’s  run  out, 
so  they  set  up  a new  one.” 

“No,  I tell  you  it’s  a new  book,”  insisted 
the  Briton,  who  by  this  time  was  himself 
beginning  to  be  annoyed.  And  then  he  de- 
manded quickly,  as  if  from  inspiration,  “Who’s 
king  these  days,  anyhow.^” 

“Why,  George!”  replied  the  Boer  with 
unperturbed  perplexity. 

“Then  look  here,”  said  the  Englishman, 
163 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


with  an  air  of  finality.  He  had  opened  “Treas- 
ure Island”  to  chapter  three,  The  Black  Spot, 
and  indicated  what  he  wished  the  Boer  to 
notice  with  his  fingers.  “Read  those  words,” 
the  Briton  said. 

“And  God  bless  King  George,”  the  Boer 
read  aloud. 

“Well,”  said  the  Briton,  wagging  his  head 
vindictively,  “doesn’t  that  prove  ‘Treasure 
Island’s  a modern  book.?” 

Some  one,  maybe  it  was  I,  tipped  over  a tall 
brown  glass  at  the  critical  moment,  so  the 
Boer  forgot  to  answer.  No  doubt,  when  he 
thinks  of  it,  he  still  puckers  his  shaggy  brows 
and  wishes  his  dear  old  Dutch  mother  were 
alive  to  vindicate  his  memory. 

Later  in  the  evening  it  devolved  that  Ber- 
nard Shaw  had  gone  down  on  the  Titanic.  The 
Boer  laid  a thousand  pounds  that  he  hadn’t. 
The  Englishman  countered  weakly.  And  as 
the  Boer  looked  as  though  he  had  a thousand 
pounds  and  the  Briton  did  not  appear  to  have 
any  we  decided  to  break  up  the  party.  On 
the  morrow  I would  have  need  of  much  energj\ 
For  the  jungle  was  at  hand. 

Early  the  following  morning  the  great  ship 
was  alive  with  nearly  naked  little  men  who 
had  come  off  from  the  shore  in  their  funny 
boats  to  help  discharge  the  cargo.  When  I 

164 


Cr.KOPATKA  S NKKDI-KS  ].\  tIIK  RAIK  d’aLOM; 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


got  up  the  Andre  Lebon  was  lying  at  anchor  in 
the  most  beautiful  stretch  of  water  in  the 
world.  The  surface  of  the  sea  was  heavy 
like  mercury,  and  of  a color  like  the  purest 
jade.  Not  a ripple  was  to  be  seen,  and  the 
ocean  impressed  itself  on  me  like  an  immense 
tepid  bath. 

On  every  side  black  pillar-like  domes  rose 
out  of  the  bay  much  as  seals  raise  themselves 
from  their  rocks.  They  stretched  interminably 
one  behind  the  other,  until  all  distinct  outlines 
were  lost  in  the  intricate  mazes  of  the  Baie 
d’Along.  The  Baie  d’Along  is  a veritable 
catacomb  of  the  sea.  Many  a venturesome 
traveler  has  wandered  into  its  beautiful  wind- 
ing ways  never  to  return.  The  calcareous 
domes  were  covered  with  a greenish  flowerless 
plant,  making  a line  of  them  look  like  a giant 
hedge  with  a vista  of  lesser  green  below.  From 
a distance  they  w'ere  indeed  enchanting.  Soon 
I w’as  to  wind  my  way  among  them. 

Standing  at  the  foot  of  the  grand  stairway, 
w’atching  the  passengers  clamor  round  the 
purser’s  wdndow%  I saw'  five  of  the  little  savages 
clinging  to  one  another’s  arms  like  lost  chil- 
dren. Some  oflBcer  had  ordered  them  to  search 
out  a certain  box.  They  had  lost  their  w'ay. 
Considering  the  stairs  as  an  avenue  of  escape 
from  those  who  w'ere  not  of  their  kind,  they 

165 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


flitted  up  to  the  landing,  where  I beheld  the 
funniest  sight  I have  ever  seen. 

At  the  head  of  the  landing,  where  the  grand 
stairway  divided,  was  a huge  mirror,  resplen- 
dent from  its  early  morning  polishing.  The 
little  men,  who  had  never  seen  themselves 
before,  were  rejoiced  to  perceive  five  others 
coming  their  way.  Their  safety,  they  thought, 
lay  in  numbers.  So  they  ran  forward,  crashing 
into  the  gleaming  glass  which  hurled  them 
mockingly  back.  But  the  little  men  were 
persistent.  Could  they  not  plainly  see  their 
comrades?  They  skirted  the  mirror  as  one 
skirts  the  face  of  a cliff,  their  brownish  hands 
flitting  over  the  smooth  surface  like  wings  of 
butterflies.  I did  not  laugh  then.  I was  too 
keen  on  seeing  the  outcome.  But  I have 
laughed  many  times  since.  Their  beady  eyes 
glistened  with  terror. 

Flit,  flit,  flit  went  the  little  brown  hands; 
ten  naked  feet  paddled  the  oaken  floor.  For 
aught  I know  they  might  have  been  flitting 
there  still  had  not  a French  officer  happened 
along,  a man  who  was  not  so  humorously 
inclined  as  I.  He  took  in  the  situation 
at  a glance.  “Sacre,”  he  muttered  between 
clenched  teeth  as  he  hit  the  nearest  dwarf 
with  his  powerful  open  hand.  The  savage 
went  down  in  a tumbled  heap  on  one  of  the 

166 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


side  stairways.  When  he  lifted  his  head  from 
somewhere  near  the  pit  of  Ids  stomach  he  saw 
the  stairs  mounting  before  him.  With  the 
nimble  agility  of  the  ancestors  whom  he  so 
closely  resembled  he  ran  on  all  fours  to  the 
top.  The  others  almost  immediately  followed 
him  and  so  were  lost  from  sight. 

Within  fifteen  minutes  my  trunks  were  low- 
ered to  a launch  on  which  a dozen  or  more 
passengers  of  all  sorts  and  descriptions  had 
already  gathered  in  mute  despondency.  I 
did  not  know,  like  they,  that  the  ride  to  Hai- 
phong, which  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  jungle, 
was  a matter  of  some  nine  hours.  The  deck  of 
the  launch  was  iron  and  painted  red.  There 
were  no  seats  or  even  chairs.  The  black  fun- 
nel, with  the  heat  waves  billowing  away  from 
it  as  ripples  follow'  the  splash  of  a stone,  rose 
up  in  the  center,  piercing  in  its  heavenward 
tilt  a very  dirty  aw'ning  several  sizes  too  small 
for  the  deck.  But  I went  down  with  the  others, 
and  soon  we  w'ere  steaming  up  the  Baie  d ’Along. 

As  w'e  passed  near  the  rocky  domelike  for- 
mations that  reared  themselves  from  the  water 
like  blunted  Cleopatra’s  Needles  I was  able 
to  observe  them  closely.  I noticed  small 
brown  furry  animals  about  the  size  of  beavers 
scurrying  from  top  to  bottom.  I imagine 
they  were  some  kind  of  otter,  for  they  could 

167 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


not  have  existed  entirely  on  these  islets.  Had 
there  been  any  means  of  recovering  the  skin 
I would  have  shot  one  out  of  curiosity’s  sake. 
But  as  it  was,  I had  to  leave  them  scurrying 
up  and  down  between  the  little  green  plants. 

Near  the  heart  of  the  Baie  d’Along  a diminu- 
tive Gibraltar  raises  its  calcine  head.  The 
head  falls  away  to  jagged  shoulders,  which 
in  their  turn  slope  to  a gentle  beach.  In  the 
bow  of  the  beach  I detected  innumerable 
little  crosses  that  glittered  white  in  the  sun. 
The  waters  were  waveless  here  and  the  crosses 
looked  like  so  many  reflections  out  of  the 
sky.  I inquired  of  the  French  helmsman  as 
to  what  they  might  be.  Thirty  years  before, 
he  said,  a party  of  priests  and  explorers  who 
had  lost  their  way  in  the  Baie  d’Along  were 
captured  by  savages,  taken  to  the  little  white 
beach  and  eaten.  Months  later  their  com- 
rades found  their  bones  glistening  as  the  crosses 
glistened  now.  What  the  savages  had  left 
the  birds  had  plucked.  So  the  bones  w^ere 
buried  where  they  lay,  a cross  for  every  skull. 
I counted  seventeen  of  them  before  an  inter- 
vening islet  shut  them  from  view.  Was  ever 
cemetery  more  ghastly  or  more  romantically 
beautiful? 

The  eye  soon  tires  of  sweeping  expanses 
of  color.  The  liquid  green  below,  the  cobalt 

168 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


blue  above,  with  the  islets  fluttering  between, 
only  served  to  lull  me  to  sleep.  The  deck  was 
scorchingly  hot.  I had  not  a place  to  lay  my 
head.  So  I snatched  a rope  from  a near-by 
davit  and  tied  one  end  of  it  to  the  rail.  The 
other  I noosed  around  my  neck  with  a knot 
that  did  not  slip.  Then  I lay  back  with  my 
weight  against  the  rope,  all  toppled  up  like 
a dying  crane.  In  this  manner  I came  to 
Haiphong. 

Bach  Tha  Buoy,  the  administration’s  agent 
to  whom  I held  a letter,  met  me  at  the  wharf. 
He  was  an  enormous  man  of  indifferent  na- 
tionality. He  had  a face  like  a hawk’s  and 
hands  like  talons,  the  latter  rendered  unsightly 
by  erysipelas  of  the  joints.  We  went  to  his 
office,  a tiny  cluttered  hole  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  where  he  held  me  fascinated 
with  his  talk  for  upwards  of  two  hours.  He 
knew  everyone,  everything.  He  had  grown 
up  with  the  country.  For  aught  he  knew  he 
had  been  born  in  this  very  place.  But  he  did 
not  know.  Bach  Tha  Buoy  knew  about  every- 
thing but  himself.  He  was  what  might  be 
termed  an  objective  talker.  For  this  reason 
I found  him  delightfully  refreshing. 

Not  far  from  Haiphong,  which  lies  on  the 
river  of  that  name,  is  the  most  interesting 
jungle-land  in  creation.  Here  the  notorious 

169 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


prince  T’ai  Nam  held  undisputed  sway  for 
more  than  forty  years.  He  barred  every  effort 
of  French  aggression.  So  the  French  despised 
him  and  put  up  a reward  of  twenty  thousand 
francs  for  his  head.  Tonkin  is  a French  pro- 
tectorate, though  nominally  still  Chinese.  It 
contains  the  worst  climates  in  China.  No 
wonder  the  colonial  French  invariably  go  to 
the  dogs. 

But  T’ai  Nam!  Regiment  after  regiment 
was  sent  into  the  jungle  maze,  and  regiment 
after  regiment  never  came  out  again.  Occa- 
sionally a half-crazed  tortured  soldier  drifted 
back  to  the  town  after  weeks  of  wandering, 
to  tell  a tale  that  made  strong  men  whimper 
like  children  when  the  colonel’s  orders  \vere 
read.  The  country  of  T’ai  Nam  billows  away 
to  the  sky  like  an  emerald  sea.  The  first  regi- 
ments went  in  with  colors  flying  and  bands 
playing  as  if  to  a carnival.  The  fresh  look 
of  the  jungle  beckoned  to  them  with  fairy 
fingers.  The  feather  palms  dipped  their  heads 
like  daisies.  The  monkeys  clattered  on  before 
them,  leading  them  to  cocoanut  groves  and 
honeyed  springs.  In,  in  the  regiment  went, 
with  the  wily  T’ai  Nam  always  skipping  just 
beyond  reach.  His  camp  fires  were  always 
burning.  But  like  a child  who,  tiring  of  a toy, 
crushes  it  with  his  foot,  so,  in  the  end,  T’ai 

170 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Nam  turned  back  to  commence  the  ghastly 
slaughter. 

I can  see  the  machetes  and  the  curling  kukris 
doing  their  deadly  work.  Nothing  is  more 
terrible  than  an  invisible  foe.  What  a mock- 
ery of  God  nature  had  become!  The  green 
foliage  bristled  with  death,  silent  and  swift 
and  sure.  Rifles  were  thrown  to  the  ground 
after  the  first  desperate  shots  had  been  fired. 
There  was  no  way  out.  The  circle  did  not 
expand.  And  when  his  work  was  done  T’ai 
Nam  skipped  merrily  away  to  strike  the  border 
again  and  again,  until  another  regiment  was 
sent  as  fuel  for  his  pagan  lusts. 

But  T’ai  Nam  is  no  more.  Like  most  men 
of  his  kind  he  met  an  inglorious  death  at  the 
hands  of  a Chinese  as  wily,  but  not  wilier 
than  he.  The  Chinese  was  a poor,  clever  man 
to  whom  the  tw-enty  thousand  francs  loomed 
like  a fortune.  He  went  into  the  jungle  and 
after  innumerable  hardships  attached  himself 
to  the  prince  as  a secondary  cook.  In  time,  by 
his  assiduity  and  invention,  he  became  chief 
of  T’ai  Nam’s  culinary  household.  Seven 
long  years  he  had  w^aited  for  his  chance, — and 
death.  For  T’ai  Nam  had  a misgiving  of  ill- 
fortune  on  the  particular  morning  that  his 
cook  decreed  he  should  die.  But  the  prince 
was  a valiant  man.  He  would  not  belittle 

171 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


himself  before  his  people.  So  he  invited  his 
cook  to  eat  with  him.  The  poor  Chinese  could 
not  well  refuse.  Whatever  way  he  turned, 
the  die  was  cast.  They  died  together  like 
two  hilarious  comrades,  neither  willing  to  let 
the  other  know  his  innermost  fears.  For  the 
cook  had  poisoned  the  food. 

The  French  Government  did  rather  nobly, 
I thought.  They  paid  the  reward  to  the  wife 
of  the  native  hero.  She  did  not  do  as  nobly 
by  her  spouse  as  the  government  did  by  her. 
She  married  a local  gaming  lord  who  squan- 
dered her  fortune  in  a week.  But  the  name  of 
T’ai  Nam,  like  that  of  Nero  of  Roman  fame,  is 
imperishable.  The  evil  men  do  lives  after  them. 
No  good  was  interred  with  T’ai  Nam’s  bones. 

Because  of  the  miasmatic  pestilential  vapors 
that  envelop  the  Namti  valley  by  night  the 
trains  only  run  in  the  daytime.  When  the 
railway  was  building  natives’  lives  were  snuffed 
out  like  so  many  candles.  “For  every  wooden 
sleeper  there’s  a human  one,”  were  the  words 
of  Bach  Tha  Buoy.  And  he  further  told  me 
that  a foreign  engineer  laid  down  his  life  for 
every  third  of  a mile. 

“How  many  miles  long  is  the  railway?” 
I asked  him  with  pertinent  emphasis. 

“Oh,  about  four  hundred  and  eighty,”  he 
said,  shuffling  a pile  of  papers. 

172 


TTIIC  COUNTWY  OK  T AI  NAM  A BI.O(  K oK  (JOI.DKX  KKl'IT 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Those  whom  the  vapors  did  not  greet  with 
their  deadly  kiss  were  the  victims  of  tigers 
and  serpents.  Bach  Tha  Buoy  himself  opened 
the  collar  of  his  shirt  for  me  and  displayed  a 
clean  white  scar  that  ran  from  a point  just 
beneath  his  chin,  curving  down  to  his  kid- 
ney. 

“A  man-eater?”  I questioned  with  bated 
breath. 

“The  old  fellow’  himself,”  answered  Bach 
Tha  Buoy.  “lie  was  not  after  me  though. 
It  was  the  poor  devil  beyond  me  he’d  selected 
for  his  breakfast.  Odd  how  stubborn  these 
dumb  brutes  are.  A tiger  will  single  a man 
or  a bullock  from  a crowd  and  bowl  over  a 
dozen  others  to  reach  his  prey.  I was  in  the 
line  of  his  leap.  He  merely  scratched  me  as 
he  went  past.  I had  always  been  interested 
in  niy  anatomy.  I had  a good  look  that  time, 
though  I could  not  help  regretting  the  beast 
chose  the  right  side  of  me.  Had  he  chosen 
the  left  I might  have  viewed  my  heart.  What 
a unique  experience  to  view  one’s  heart!” 

“Yes,”  I assented,  “it  certainly  would  be 
unique.” 

At  Hanoi,  the  next  town  above  Haiphong, 
two  lordly  tigers  are  held  in  picturesque  cap- 
tivity. They  had  not  been  captured  as  cubs. 
They  were  full-fledged  man-eaters  when  the 

173 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


final  entrapment  came.  Nor  were  they  mere 
nondescript  wanderers.  They  were  held  strictly 
accountable  for  their  meals.  The  children 
(I  numbered  myself  among  them)  gathered  to 
hear  an  old  lady  talk  rather  ungently  at  the 
one  who  swallowed  her  son.  The  lady  cursed 
and  the  tiger  roared,  and  we  merely  looked 
on.  It  was  an  auspicious  introduction,  I thought, 
to  the  jungle. 


174 


CHAPTER  XII 


The  long  jungle  train  sweated  and  steamed 
like  an  impatient  horse.  A crowd  of  natives 
who  should  have  been  securely  in  their  seats 
were  looking  at  the  engine.  No  doubt  they 
thought  it  somehow  mysteriously  endowed 
with  a soul;  but  whether  with  that  of  a devil 
or  of  a god  they  were  not  reasonably  sure. 
Its  blackness  with  the  circle  of  red  round  its 
belly  suggested  a devil.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  were  all  the  gold-like  ornaments  on 
top;  and  it  breathed  vapor  instead  of  fire; 
it  must  be  a god. 

The  engine,  with  its  eight  little  wheels 
particularly  fashioned  for  climbing,  paid  no 
heed  to  these  conjecturings.  It  show'ed  its 
utter  indifference  by  suddenly  blowing  its 
nostrils  at  the  crowd.  The  natives  scattered 
like  monkeys  at  the  approach  of  a python. 
Whether  the  iron  monster  was  devil  or  god  w^as 
of  no  immediate  concern  so  long  as  their  lives 
were  endangered.  A panting  sound  followed 
the  blowing  of  the  steam,  and  then  the  natives 
knew  it  was  a god.  For  a god,  as  everybody 

175 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


knows,  gets  easily  tired,  whereas  a devil  is 
tireless.  If  you  don’t  believe  this,  only  con- 
sider the  evil  in  the  world.  The  natives  were 
right.  The  engine  was  merely  a god,  an  object 
to  be  venerated  but  not  feared. 

Without  warning  the  guard  blew  the  three- 
minute  whistle  shrilly.  The  natives  tumbled 
into  the  coaches,  which  is  a euphemism,  like 
sheep  being  driven  to  slaughter.  The  majority 
of  them  had  arrived  at  the  station  an  hour 
before  the  train  was  scheduled  to  go.  But 
pending  the  three-minute  whistle  they  had 
been  strolling  amiably  about  the  platform, 
chatting  like  gentlemen  of  leisure  and  attending 
to  everything  but  their  business,  which  was  to 
see  that  their  baggage  was  safely  aboard  and 
that  they  had  a sufficient  amount  of  food  to 
tide  them  over  the  jungle. 

Before  the  guard  blew  his  whistle,  a little 
nickel  one  that  he  wore  amulet-like  about  his 
neck  on  a silver  chain,  the  platform  presented 
an  orderly  appearance.  It  might  even  have 
been  mistaken  for  a fashionable  promenade. 
Things  move  slowly  in  China  until  an  extrane- 
ous force  is  brought  to  bear.  The  guard  had 
not  exhausted  a fourth  of  his  pulmonary  ca- 
pacity when  the  station  became  a riot  of  noise 
and  movement.  An  American  stock  exchange 
at  its  frenziedest  is  dull  in  comparison. 

176 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 

Natives  tore  hither  and  thither,  shrieking 
like  madmen.  Children  were  knocked  down 
and  beaten  under  foot.  Whole  families  with 
third-class  tickets  were  insisting  to  be  let  into 
second-class  compartments.  It  was  not  suf- 
ficient that  the  guard  should  deny  tliem  this 
privilege.  He  had  to  explain  the  entire  phil- 
osophy of  railroad  procedure,  enforce  upon 
their  minds  the  dissimilarity  that  lay  between 
the  hovels  they  were  wont  to  inhabit  and  the 
quite  unparalleled  comfort  afforded  by  seats 
that  were  set  in  a row.  In  the  end  he  con- 
ducted them,  when  he  had  shrieked  himself 
blue  in  the  face,  to  the  exterior  of  the  coach 
and  there  pointed  out  the  significance  of  the 
number  on  their  pieces  of  pasteboard  and  a 
like  numeral  printed  in  gold  on  the  side  of 
the  car. 

Venders  of  food  and  drink  lined  the  train,  as 
if  they  had  been  so  many  relatives  bidding 
their  friends  farewell.  Coppers  were  thrown 
out  of  the  frameless  apertures  serving  as 
window's  and  food  was  tossed  up  in  exchange. 
There  were  a thousand  wdld  gesticulations  and 
grimaces  as  buyers  and  sellers  quibbled  in 
terms  of  fractions  of  less  than  a penny.  It 
would  seem  that  the  tumult  and  the  shouting 
could  never  die,  so  insistently  had  it  begun. 
But  finally,  group  by  group,  the  venders 

177 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


disposed  of  their  wares  and  shuflSed  con- 
tentedly off,  counting  their  silver. 

Family  after  family  trundled  into  the  third- 
class  coaches  and  settled  noisomely  down,  like 
ducks  that  have  finally  found  water.  A hand- 
ful of  French  soldiers  who  were  relieving  some 
comrades  up  the  line  made  a place  for  them- 
selves in  the  second-class  car.  They  brushed 
the  natives  aside  like  dogs,  tumbling  them  out 
of  their  seats  as  if  they  had  been  so  much 
baggage.  They  were  only  exercising  the  right 
of  the  conqueror.  The  natives  did  not  even 
glower  in  return  for  this  pleasantry.  Nor  did 
the  French  soldiers  glower:  they  only  laughed, 
as  if  the  entire  affair  were  a joke,  which,  from 
their  point  of  view,  indubitably  was  the  case. 
The  natives  moved  on  to  vacant  seats,  perhaps 
to  be  later  tumbled  out  again  by  a fresh  batch 
of  soldiers. 

For  a couple  of  hours  we  drew  steadily  into 
thicker  vegetation.  At  first  the  palms  and 
rank  jungle  grasses  had  been  far  away,  to  be 
seen  like  oases  from  a distance.  But  closer 
and  closer  they  crept,  until  I could  distinguish 
the  frayed  silky  network  of  the  lower  trunk 
and  the  dead  brown  tips  of  the  bended  leaves. 
The  fan  palms  rose  above  the  feather  variety 
and  topping  all  swayed  the  lordly  coco.  When 
the  train  took  the  steeper  grades  and  barely 

178 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


crept  along,  I swung  from  the  steps  and 
snatched  a block  of  bananas  from  the  golden 
ear.  Grapefruit  shone  higher  up,  like  the 
forbidden  fruit,  in  its  insipid  green.  Inter- 
spersing the  larger  trees,  the  luxuriant  bamboo 
bristled  its  needle  leaves.  At  the  foot  of  the 
trees  rank  yellow  grasses  and  ferns  grew  huge 
sword-like  blades.  It  is  underneath  the  matted 
tops  of  these  last  that  the  tiger  and  leopard 
tread  their  runs  to  the  springs. 

Occasionally  we  struck  an  opening  and  I 
saw  a group  of  huts  with  dried  banana-leaf 
roofs  nestling  among  the  palms.  At  one  point 
a farmer  was  plowing  a rice  field  that  lay  under 
water.  I could  just  see  the  great  bullock’s 
head  with  his  glowering  eyes,  like  a moose 
swimming.  The  farmer  stood  in  w^ater  up  to 
his  armpits,  steadying  the  plow.  Higher  up  a 
group  of  bullocks  grazed  off  bamboo  shoots. 
Black  birds  hopped  up  and  down  their  backs, 
pecking,  pecking,  pecking.  A child  of  four 
years  sat  between  the  horns  of  a cow.  When 
the  birds  came  too  close,  he  shooed  them 
away.  His  legs  were  bare  and  beaks  are 
sharp.  He  was  already  somewhat  of  a man. 

At  the  stations  along  the  way  I had  an 
intimate  glimpse  of  the  bhang-chewing  An- 
amese.  The  women  wore  black  flowing  trousers 
and  w^hite  blouses,  and  a stiffly  coiled  cylinder. 

179 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


like  turban.  The  turbans  served  to  protect 
their  heads  from  the  jars  of  wine  and  baskets 
of  fruit  they  carried  in  this  manner.  How 
incessantly  they  chewed  and  spat!  Their  lips 
were  red  and  their  teeth  black,  and  when  they 
opened  their  mouths  to  talk  I could  think  of 
nothing  but  Baa,  Baa,  Blacksheep.  The 
brown  earth  was  spotted  with  betel-nut  spittle. 
The  Anamese  blacken  their  teeth  because  they 
think  both  to  preserve  and  beautify  them  by 
this  practice.  Some  of  the  women  were 
beautiful  until  they  opened  their  mouths. 
Then  it  became  Baa,  Baa,  Blacksheep,  until 
weariedly  I turned  away. 

The  men  were  similarly  clothed,  except  that 
in  addition  to  blouses  and  trousers  they  wore 
black  slippers.  They  were  more  modest  than 
their  wives.  When  I first  heard  the  Chinese 
language  proper  I thought  it  queer.  But  the 
Anamese  tongue  struck  me  as  hopeless  gibber- 
ish. Presumably  it  has  much  in  common  with 
southern  Chinese,  for  there  are  eight  distinct 
spoken  languages  in  China.  But  Anamese  is 
really  difficult  to  acquire.  There  are  about 
four  hundred  words  in  it,  and  all  of  them 
mean  everything.  I don’t  wonder  the  colonial 
Frenchman  becomes  chronically  choleric. 

Back  of  the  farthest  line  of  feather  palms 
live  the  savage  folk,  who,  to  tell  the  truth, 

180 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


are  not  half  so  barbarian  as  a Saturday  night 
crowd  in  Scollay  Square.  By  pony  I have 
passed  as  many  as  twenty  tribes  in  a day; 
all  speaking  different  languages,  and  each 
having  an  ungovernable  propensity  for  blowing 
poisoned  arrows  at  the  others.  Outside  of  this 
they  gather  up  the  fruit  as  it  drops  from  the 
trees,  make  beaded  garments,  rope-shoes  and 
rush  mats,  which  they  bring  into  the  settle- 
ments to  barter.  I have  seen  a Miao  w'oman 
refuse  a silver  dollar  for  a pair  of  shoes  because 
she  had  set  her  heart  on  an  empty  bottle. 
Nor  did  she  want  the  bottle  to  smell  of  it. 
Her  nostrils  were  keen  but  Columba  was  not 
her  Saint.  The  bottle  was  a prize  because  it 
was  both  reliable  and  transparent.  Glassware 
did  not  originate  with  savages. 

But  these  jungle  folk  are  diffident  little 
people  who  have  inherited  from  the  Middle 
Kingdom  their  belief  in  the  foreigner’s  evil  eye. 
Once  I came  across  a cluster  of  huts  buried 
deep  among  the  palms.  Had  not  the  stallion 
I was  riding  scented  another  I should  never 
have  discovered  them.  Foolishly  I looked  too 
long.  A child  caught  sight  of  me,  a girl  of 
some  seven  years  carrying  an  infant  on  her 
back.  She  bolted  into  the  nearest  hut,  shriek- 
ing like  one  possessed.  I should  have  gone, 
but  I waited  until  a crowd  formed  in  the 

181 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


center  of  the  little  village.  Certain  tales  I 
had  heard  suddenly  coming  to  mind,  I,  too, 
bolted.  Later  on  I rode  that  way  again,  and 
after  waiting  nearly  an  hour  for  some  one  to 
appear,  I cautiously  approached  the  nearest 
hut.  But  there  was  no  need  for  caution.  The 
village  had  been  abandoned,  and  all  because 
my  evil  eye  had  cast  itself  among  them. 

The  French  Government  had  reason  to 
know  what  superstition  meant.  It  appro- 
priated three  hundred  thousand  francs  for  the 
building  of  a road  some  twelve  miles  long. 
The  road  was  to  lead  off  the  government 
highway  to  a native  village  in  the  jungle.  It 
was  an  arduous  task,  costing  much  money  and 
many  lives.  When  the  road  was  within  two 
miles  of  completion  the  French  engineer  thought 
he  might  as  well  confer  with  the  village  chiefs. 
So  a delegation  went  forward  to  find  that  the 
town  had  moved  twenty  miles  up  river.  Again 
the  foreigner’s  evil  eye!  Mohamet  cannot 
always  reach  the  mountain. 

Coming  to  Mengtsz  was  in  reality  getting 
back  to  China.  Though  the  jungle  had  been 
beautiful,  Anam  itself  did  not  impress  me. 
Everywhere  the  hand  of  the  conqueror  was 
evident  and  the  people  seemed  to  be  suffering 
from  repression.  Life  naturally  is  too  easy  for 
the  Anamese  and  they  have  not  yet  recovered 

182 


A Kl'IN'  I. KIT  J5Y  TIIK  KOXKKS 


A FARM  HOUSE  IX  THE  MENGTSZ  VALLEY 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


from  the  impact  with  civilization.  Culture  for 
the  masses  comes  high.  It  takes  a long  time 
for  races  to  harden  their  hands  to  the  plow  and 
the  spade.  Civilization  is  a cruel  mistress 
unless  she  have  a lord.  Leaving  the  jungle 
was  like  quitting  a maelstrom  of  the  vege- 
table kingdom;  arriving  in  Mengtsz  like  being 
pitched  headforemost  into  the  animal  one 
again. 

Four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of  September  6 
found  me  on  the  rear  platform  of  the  little 
mountain  train,  shading  my  eyes  as  I gazed 
down  and  away  to  Mengtsz.  All  that  day  we 
had  been  running  through  luxuriant  forests, 
and  steadily  climbing.  At  one  point  the 
glittering  rails  seemed  on  an  embankment  over 
our  heads.  After  the  passing  of  an  hour,  in 
which  time  we  had  threaded  devious  tunnels 
and  bridged  yawning  caverns,  I was  astounded 
to  look  down  at  the  spot  we  had  traversed  an 
hour  before.  Almost  imperceptibly  the  vege- 
tation thinned  until  we  left  it  altogether  and 
shot  onto  the  smooth  red  soil  of  the  plateau 
which  slopes  to  the  plains  of  Yunnan.  The 
city  was  barely  distinguishable,  with  the  gray 
walls  nearly  concealing  it.  But  on  the  left  I 
noticed  a patch  of  green.  White  walls  inter- 
mittently came  into  view,  and  the  whole  was 
set  apart  like  an  emperor’s  tomb. 

183 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  station  at  which  I disembarked  to  en- 
train again  for  Mengtsz  is  known  as  Pishihchai, 
or  Flea-Infested  Spot.  Pishihchai  sits  like  a 
variegated  bowlder  on  the  mountain  side. 
Below  the  town  a lake,  like  a piece  of  fallen 
sky,  mirrors  clouds.  Beyond  the  lake  are 
mountains  looking  into  Burma.  Henri  Cloarec 
was  there  to  meet  me.  He  was  to  be  my 
colleague  in  exile.  We  ran  to  each  other  as 
children  will  in  the  dark. 

Unlike  most  Chinese  cities,  Mengtsz  has 
practically  no  suburbs.  On  the  west  and  north 
sides,  to  be  sure,  a handful  of  earthen  huts 
frowns  at  the  color-seeking  eye.  But,  for  the 
greater  part,  the  city  and  its  pagan  throng  are 
swallowed  up  in  the  inwardly  leaning  walls  not 
more  than  twenty  feet  high  and  quite  scalable, 
as  a robber  band  once  learned.  Skirting  the 
lotus  lake,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  flourish 
banana  groves  and  the  Red  Pagoda,  I came 
to  the  customs  compound  and  my  home. 

For  this  was  the  patch  of  green  I had  de- 
scried from  the  distant  plateau.  An  enterpris- 
ing American  commissioner,  whose  assiduity 
was  commensurate  with  his  vision,  twenty 
years  before  had  planted  eucalyptus  trees,  and 
now  they  had  grown  to  lordly  heights.  My 
bungalow-like  house  snuggled  beneath  them. 
In  the  evening  magpies  slept  in  their  tops,  and 

184 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


quite  often  a flock  of  egrets  wending  home- 
wards from  the  paddy  fields  did  me  the  honor 
of  dropping  their  precious  plumes  at  my  feet. 
The  leaves  of  the  eucalyptus  trees  scented  the 
air,  so  that  rising  in  the  early  morning  was  a 
pleasure.  But  oftener  I just  lay  in  bed  and 
breathed. 

The  longer  wall,  which  was  whitewashed  and 
topped  with  red,  separated  my  gardens  from 
the  French  consulate,  where  a few  hundred 
rifles  and  forty  thousand  rounds  of  ammuni- 
tion were  stored  against  an  emergency.  The 
shorter  wall,  which  was  completely  buried  in  a 
bamboo  hedge,  cut  me  off  from  the  Banque  de 
ITndo-Chine.  The  other  two  walls  ottered  an 
obstacle  to  thieves  and  wandering  pigs.  They 
did  not,  however,  prevent  a snow  leopard  from 
astonishing  me  one  morning.  He  lay  in  the 
heart  of  the  bamboo  hedge,  whither  I had 
lofted  a golf  ball  on  the  preceding  afternoon. 
Like  all  felines  he  disliked  being  prodded. 
With  a disquieting  snarl  he  leaped  out  and 
bounded  into  the  lesser  shrubs,  where  he  prob- 
ably lay  until  darkness.  He  was  too  beautiful 
to  destroy. 

On  a certain  Saturday  afternoon  in  the  latter 
part  of  September  I walked  for  the  first  time 
into  Mengtsz  city.  There  was  nothing  new  for 
me  to  see,  although  Mengtsz  is  quainter,  being 

185 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


founded  on  a knoll,  than  most  Chinese  metrop- 
olises. So  I took  one  of  the  quiet  roads  leading 
along  the  little  toppling  wall,  where  only 
children  play  and  where  massive  temple  bells  of 
solid  bronze  hang  from  the  lower  limbs  of  pine 
trees,  with  nothing  but  the  wind  to  sound 
them.  The  temples  were  here,  too,  but  I saw 
no  priests.  It  w^as  for  all  the  wwld  like  the 
Street  of  the  Dead  in  Pompeii,  and  I almost 
expected  the  children  to  run  up  to  me,  as  the 
little  beggars  do  in  southern  Italy. 

The  walls  wxre  browm  and  moss-covered  like 
old  tombs.  The  street  w^as  paved  with  flag- 
stones, and  the  tiles  of  the  temple  roofs  were 
gray;  so  it  was  not  remarkable  that  I should 
have  been  attracted  by  a splash  of  mo^ing 
color.  It  was  a lady,  daintily  appareled,  walk- 
ing with  mincing  steps,  though  her  feet  were 
not  lily  ones.  Her  head  w'as  nearly  obscured 
by  a pink  parasol  with  flat  top  and  dropping 
sides.  Two  little  girls  romped  along  with  her 
like  attendant  spirits. 

The  lady  passed  me,  her  eyes  bent  to  the 
pavement,  though  I fancied  I saw  the  glimmer 
of  a smile  about  her  lips.  Then  one  of  the 
little  tots  fell  and  lay  crying,  the  other  danc- 
ing merrily  ahead,  unheeding.  So  I stepped 
quickly  over  and  righted  the  chubby  darling, 
whose  eyes  were  blinded  with  tears.  When 

186 


f' 


TKMIM.KI)  1!A TTI.KMKNTS  OF  TOMBS  TIIK  AUTHOR  IX  ]IIS  OAKDKN 


TUE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


she  saw  me  she  became  instantly  sober,  disen- 
gaged herself  from  my  hands,  and  sped  to  join 
her  playmate.  She  clutched  at  the  lady’s  dress 
and  stood  walking  backward,  gazing  at  me 
with  smiles,  while  the  other  child  recounted 
the  incident  to  the  lady. 

I saw  the  latter  stop,  with  a sort  of  arrested 
motion,  like  a line  gliding  into  a point.  Then 
she  turned  her  head  ever  so  slightly  and 
regarded  me,  peering  up  between  the  edge  of 
the  parasol  and  her  shoulder.  Her  face  was  of 
exquisite  mold  and  amply  framed  by  her  hair, 
which  lay  in  almost  negligent  neatness  over  her 
cheeks,  making  her  look  like  a more  animated 
Mona  Lisa.  She  regarded  me  wonderingly  for 
a moment  before  permitting  her  features  to 
form  a smile  which  might  have  been  one  of 
surprise,  though  I interpreted  it  as  recogni- 
tion. 

“Hai-tzu  p'eng  t'ou  lo  mo?”  I asked  tremu- 
lously, fearing  she  would  not  answer.  “Did 
the  child  bump  its  head.^” 

“ Mei  p'eng  lo  t'ou  lo”  she  replied  in  the 
negative.  And  then  she  added,  “Kei  lao-yeh 
hsieh-ti  to  lo — the  honorable  Sir  has  my  sincer- 
est  thanks.” 

“C^’z  kan,  ch’i  kan — don’t  mention  it,”  I 
answered,  as  she  turned  to  go. 

I stood  watching  her,  waiting  for  I knew  not 
187 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


what.  The  children  were  constantly  turning  to 
look  at  me,  and  I could  see  she  was  speaking 
with  them.  Just  before  they  made  a bend  in 
the  road  the  lady  turned  and  lifted  her  head 
coquettishly.  But  I felt  this  was  to  give  me  a 
view  of  her  face,  for  she  smiled  friendlily  as  she 
passed  from  my  view. 

The  tenth  of  October,  marking  the  eighth 
anniversary  of  the  Republic,  was  chosen  by  the 
local  general  as  a day  on  which  the  district 
might  do  him  honor.  So  he  opened  his  spa- 
cious gardens  in  the  heart  of  the  city  to  the 
populace,  all  of  whom  crowded  thither,  not  so 
much  to  honor  him  as  to  taste  his  food.  I 
attended  in  my  official  capacity,  and  had  the 
privilege  of  shaking  the  general’s  hand  and 
being  complimented  on  my  knowledge  of  the 
language.  Foreigners  in  China  are  always 
being  told  that  they  speak  excellent  Chinese. 
Such  parlance  makes  easy  conversation  and  is 
not  provocative  of  violence.  From  courtesy  I 
remained  by  the  general’s  side  while  he  probed 
my  private  affairs.  The  last  question  he  put 
to  me,  when  he  learned  I was  going  home,  was, 
“Chao  hsi-fu  ch’ii  pu  chao  mo? — are  you  going 
in  search  of  a wife?”  Thinking  this  a likely 
opportunity  to  get  done  with  commonplaces  I 
answered,  “<S/w7i,” — meaning  that  I was.  The 
General  smiled  on  me  approvingly  and  buried 

188 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


his  face  in  a bowl  of  tea.  Whereat  I slipped 
into  the  gardens. 

Except  it  be  a bevy  of  laughing  girls  and 
smiling  women,  there  is  nothing  prettier  than 
Chinese  gardens  with  their  quaint  little  stone 
mountains  and  porcelain  pagodas  and  artificial 
lakes  with  goldfish  flecking  the  surface.  I had 
long  since  learned  that  the  Chinese  gentler  sex 
was  amenable  to  appreciative  eyes.  So  it  was 
not  without  a certain  definite  intention  that  I 
sought  the  gardens.  Custom  forbade  the  wives 
and  daughters  to  mingle  in  the  sanctuary  of  the 
men.  Perhaps  for  this  reason  the  latter  elected 
to  wear  those  gorgeous  ceremonial  robes,  now 
mostly  the  delight  and  the  despair  of  envious 
occidental  eyes.  In  excluding  woman  man 
knew  he  was  hiding  his  choicest  gem,  so  he  took 
to  himself  as  many  of  her  piquant  colorful 
ways  as  he  could  and  yet  retain  his  sex.  The 
robes  and  ceremonies  and  elegancies  of  ofliciah 
dom  compensate  for  much,  but  they  can  never 
compensate  for  woman. 

They  were  standing  in  groups  of  threes  and 
fours  in  the  shelter  of  apricot  and  potted  lemon 
trees.  When  I passed  near  them  they  hung 
their  heads  or  hid  their  faces  behind  silk  fans, 
their  eyes  dancing  with  significant  but  silent 
thoughts.  Had  their  mothers  and  grand- 
mothers been  with  them  they  would  not  have 

189 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


ventured  even  to  smile,  but  would  have  ap- 
peared as  if  stricken  motionless  with  fear. 
They  were  enjoying  their  moment  of  liberty, 
and  being  intoxicated  with  freedom  and  the 
desire  for  natural  expression,  they  smiled.  But 
not  at  me  directly.  They  smiled  to  each  other; 
even  the  virgins  of  twelve  and  fifteen  years, 
catching  the  utter  abandon  of  the  occasion, 
stamped  their  pretty  feet  from  the  sheerest 
ecstasy.  They  cuddled  against  the  silken 
sheen  of  their  mothers’  garments,  and  the  latter 
joggled  them  with  feigned  solemnity. 

I enjoyed  it  as  much  as  they,  but  I knew 
better  than  to  do  what  I should  have  liked  to 
do:  approach  them  with  a mode  of  speech.  I 
had  learned  from  experience  that  even  where  I 
knew  them  I could  make  practically  no  head- 
way. For  often,  until  the  utter  futility  of  it 
impressed  itself  upon  me,  I had  attempted  to 
make  conversation  with  these  feminine  folk. 
Had  I happened  on  one  alone,  it  would  have 
been  altogether  different.  It  was  not  that  they 
feared  me  but  rather  because  of  the  common 
sentiment  supposedly  prevailing  among  their 
kind.  In  the  first  place  it  is  not  modest  for  a 
woman  to  pass  the  time  of  day  with  men. 
And,  secondly,  though  man  would  like  to  have 
her,  custom  has  decreed  that  woman  is  not 
intelligent  enough  to  converse  in  a worth-while 

190 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


way.  Politically  speaking,  this  may  be  true. 
For  my  own  part  I have  found  the  talk  of 
edueated  Chinese  women  every  w’hit  as  intelli- 
gent as  that  of  the  average  run  of  their  hus- 
bands. Then  too,  the  Chinese  women,  know- 
ing how  ardently  their  husbands  adore  modesty 
are  prone  to  humor  them  in  this  respect.  A 
case  plainly  of  the  weaker  bowing  to  the 
stronger;  but  it  has  its  virtues  as  well  as  its 
defeets. 

I sauntered  by  group  after  group  of  alluring 
damsels  who  did  me  the  honor  of  blushing  as 
violently  as  they  could  whenever  I caught 
their  eyes.  It  was  early  evening  and  the  sub- 
dued glow  of  the  Chinese  lanterns  served  only 
to  enhance  the  beauty  of  their  faces.  They 
were  clothed  brilliantly,  and  with  an  apparent 
disdain  of  the  spectrum,  for  every  conceivable 
color  was  in  evidence  and  yet  all  was  in  good 
taste.  The  black  hair  and  the  gentle  features, 
the  slight  fairy  forms  and  dainty  feet  could  not 
help  but  be  adornments  to  the  most  extrava- 
gant colors. 

The  average  Chinese  w'oman  is  not  physically 
so  appealing  as  the  Caucasian.  At  least,  to 
begin  with,  one  is  not  aware  of  her  physical 
charm.  First  she  exudes  a spiritual  vapor  as 
enticing  as  it  is  mystifying.  The  Chinese 
W'Omen  wear  their  souls  on  their  sleeves  and 

191 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


have  not  thereby  become  less  pure.  But  their 
bodies,  those  despotic  organs  of  man  which  so 
often  are  his  masters  instead  of  his  servants, 
are  hidden  away  in  mazes  of  shimmering  silk, 
so  that  beautiful  women  radiate  spiritual  ema- 
nations, which,  strangely  enough,  are  far  more 
seductive  than  physical  ones.  The  latter  are 
understandable  and  can,  to  a certain  extent,  be 
appropriated,  but  the  former  torment  the  soul 
and  enervate  the  body  with  only  the  compen- 
sation of  a dream. 

I noticed  behind  an  artificial  hill  an  extrava- 
gantly dressed  woman  kneeling  beside  a hollow 
rock  and  dipping  her  fingers  in  water  that 
bubbled  in  it  like  a spring.  She  was  alone, 
though  at  a little  distance  stood  a maid  holding 
a scarf  in  both  hands.  Neither  of  them  saw  me 
at  first,  but  as  the  lady  turned  to  rise  she 
caught  sight  of  me  in  the  shadow  and  instantly 
knelt  again.  I heard  her  say  to  the  maid,  “Pieh 
teng  wo,  ni  k"o  i ts’ou  ¥an  jen  cliu — don’t  wait 
for  me,  walk  about  and  watch  the  crowd.” 

The  maid  was  only  too  glad  for  this  chance 
to  gossip  with  her  kind,  and  immediately 
flitted  away.  I stood  quietly  in  the  shadow 
watching,  for  I was  not  sure  that  the  lady  had 
seen  me,  or,  even  so,  I could  not  guarantee  that 
she  had  not  also  seen  somebody  else.  So  I 
waited  until  she  turned  her  head  in  my  direc- 

192 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


lion.  She  was  smiling  with  a certain  restraint. 
Then  she  went  on  dipping  her  fingers  in  the 
pool,  her  voice  startling  me  with  this  song: 

“ Ilsi  jen  t'a  tvang  lo  wOy 
‘'listen  ts’ai  bu  hsiang  wo, 

“ T'a  hsiang  t'a  hsi  kuo  ku, 

“Wo  }isin-li  hua  lo.” 

“My  Westerner’s  forgotten  me, 

“He  thinks  of  me  no  longer, 

“He  dreams  of  his  western  love, 

“My  heart  is  melted  away.” 

When  the  song  ended  and  her  voice  trailed 
into  a high  falsetto,  I came  quickly  out  of  the 
shadow,  for  I thought,  nay,  I was  sure,  I 
recognized  her  identity.  But  could  it  be.^ 
Yes,  it  was  no  other  than  the  lady  of  the 
pink  parasol.  She  had  recognized  me  early  in 
the  evening  and  had  taken  this  means  of 
attracting  my  attention.  After  passing  a few 
commonplaces  I asked  her  her  name.  She 
replied,  “Pak-koi.”  And  then  I learned  that 
she  owed  her  comparative  liberty  to  being  a 
teacher  in  a girl’s  primary  school.  We  chatted 
pleasantly  for  a while,  so  pleasantly,  in  fact, 
that  I wondered  if  I should  ever  have  that 
pleasure  again. 


193 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


To  this  end  I asked  her  about  her  honorable 
household. 

“Fm  shang  ts'ai  na'rh  chu? — where  is  your 
palatial  abode.^” 

“My  humble  hut’s  inside  the  city  near  the 
little  southern  gate,”  she  answered. 

'‘Chia  chuan  yu  to  hsiao  jen?”  I asked. 
“How  many  people  are  there  in  your  house?” 

“I  live  alone,”  she  replied. 

“Then  you  are  not  married?” 

“Oh,  no.  I find  an  independent  life  more 
charming.” 

“Then  I may  call  some  afternoon  for  tea?” 

“The  master  would  not  presume  to  leave  his 
palace  for  my  miserable  quarters.” 

“Wouldn’t  he,  though?”  I returned  in 
English. 

When  she  asked  me  what  I said,  I found 
myself  unable  to  render  this  phrase  in  idio- 
matic Chinese,  so  I said,  “Na  shih  Nin-na 
shuo  ti  hua,  wo  yao  lai — that’s  your  way  of 
putting  it.  I’ll  come.” 


194 


NKIGHBOliS  J'HOM  INDIA  DAI’I’LKD  STALLION  WHO  ONCK 

WAS  WILD 


CHAPTER  XIII 


My  dappled  stallion  carried  me  into  the 
plains,  then  up  to  the  verge  of  the  hills  whence 
I had  a glimpse  of  the  jungle  flowering  away 
to  the  south.  I rode  through  smallpoxed  vil- 
lages where  all  those  not  dead  were  living. 
By  which  I mean  that  so  long  as  there  was 
life  it  called  for  ceaseless  activity.  There 
was  no  laying  it  gradually  down,  as  the  suc- 
cessful man  does  in  the  Western  world.  It 
w'as  work,  work,  work.  Death  was  deliver- 
ance from  work.  No  wonder  these  pagan 
peoples  are  stoical  in  the  face  of  sorrow!  The 
children  ran  about  their  games  with  scaling 
faces.  My  pony  shied  at  a corpse.  In  an- 
other moment  I had  passed  through,  not  think- 
ing of  danger,  and  only  keen  for  the  glories 
that  lay  beyond. 

Titian  should  have  known  these  hills.  They 
are  nearly  mountains.  I rode  to  the  foot  of 
them  in  the  early  glow  of  evening.  The  red 
soil  caught  up  light  from  incarnadined  clouds 
and  burned  an  impassioned  crimson.  Peasant 
women,  carrying  bundles  of  hay,  flared  in 

195 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


their  blues  and  greens  like  gems  on  a Raja’s 
finger. 

One  afternoon  de  Lusignan,  a Britisher,  and 
I went  riding  during  harvest.  It  was  nearly 
dusk  when  we  rode  back  between  the  waving 
grains.  Little  thatched  shelters  set  on  stilts 
were  the  only  signs  of  man.  These  were  look- 
out posts  for  watchers  of  the  grain.  Not  a 
human  did  we  see  until  we  came  to  a rocky 
road  where  we  dismounted  to  lead  our  ponies. 
De  Lusignan  remarked  a native  squatting  on 
an  embankment.  The  native  was  smoking 
his  long  pipe  with  quiet  stolidity.  The  only 
movement  discernible  was  in  his  hand  and  arm 
which  shuttled  slowly  back  and  forth  as  he  drew 
the  pipe  from  his  mouth  and  put  it  back  again. 

“I’d  give  a dollar  to  know  what  he’s  think- 
ing about,”  said  de  Lusignan. 

“If  you  gave  a penny,  you’d  be  paying 
too  much,”  I answered  quickly. 

And  I believe  truth  was  in  my  words.  The 
native  was  tired  and  worn.  The  day’s  work 
was  done,  and  he  had  gotten  out  of  the  bustle 
of  men  to  have  a quiet  smoke.  There  may 
have  been  a pinch  of  opium  in  the  bowl.  This 
was  no  concern  of  mine.  He  was  the  picture 
of  intellectual  blankness  and  physical  con- 
tentment. I would  not  have  had  him  think 
for  worlds. 


196 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


An  official  envelope,  an  invitation  from  the 
magistracy  of  Kotcliiu  to  visit  the  tin  mines, 
was  brought  me  one  morning  by  a squad  of 
soldiers.  Quite  by  the  way,  as  a sort  of  post- 
script, I was  informed  that  the  governor  would 
allot  me  a hundred  armed  men  for  a guard. 
It  looked  as  though  I were  being  done  exces- 
sive honor  until  I mentioned  the  matter  to 
de  Lusignan,  who,  as  a representative  of  the 
British  American  Tobacco  Comi)any,  had  often 
traveled  in  the  hinterland.  He  explained  that 
the  guard  was  accorded  me  because  of  the 
robbers  who  at  that  time  were  unwontedly 
rampant. 

“You  see,  it’s  like  this,”  said  de  Lusignan. 
“If  you’re  shot,  a big  how-do-you-do’ll  re- 
sult. The  governor’s  not  taking  chances  on 
a government  official.” 

“Then  you  don’t  think  I’ll  get  shot,”  I said. 

“Not  unless  a sharpshooter  pots  you  from 
the  hills,”  de  Lusignan  answered. 

With  this  last  thought  tingling  in  my  brain 
I set  out  one  morning  with  my  hundred  soldiers 
straggling  in  front  of  and  behind  me.  I noticed 
that  most  of  them  wore  their  cartridge  belts 
upside  down,  and  on  inquiry  learned  that 
this  was  to  keep  the  lead  from  dropping  out. 
Occasionally  even,  the  lead  drops  out  when 
the  trigger  is  pulled.  But  more  often  it  stays 

197 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


put.  It  is  a notorious  fact  that  nearly  four 
rounds  of  ammunition  are  allotted  the  Chinese 
soldier  for  target  practice  each  year.  I say 
nearly  four  rounds  because,  when  deductions 
are  made  for  graft,  only  about  a round  and  a 
half  are  left  for  consumption.  The  remem- 
brance of  this  was  consoling.  If  the  Republican 
soldier  gets  only  a round  and  a half,  what 
chance  has  a mere  robber?  I thought.  Later 
on  I had  this  question  answered  in  rather  a 
practical  manner. 

It  was  nearly  nightfall  when  we  came  to  a 
wooded  hill  and  my  Chinese  companion  said, 
“This  is  the  spot  where  they  had  a battle  last 
year.” 

“A  battle?”  I queried. 

“Between  robbers  and  our  soldiers,”  the 
Chinese  explained. 

“Oh,”  I replied  simply. 

I thought  a moment  before  I asked  him, 
“Do  you  think  there  is  any  likelihood  of  our 
being  attacked?”  I was  really  hoping  for  a 
skirmish. 

“You  had  better  loosen  your  pistol,”  he 
answered  without  hesitancy. 

We  came  to  the  top  of  the  wooded  hill  with- 
out mishap,  but  when  we  reached  the  other 
side  I heard  the  sound  of  scattered  shots.  It 
was  quite  dark  now.  Riding  back  to  look 

198 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


down  on  the  plain  we  had  so  recently  quitted, 
I saw  a flare  of  red  against  the  evening  sky. 
With  the  aid  of  binoculars  I made  out  a group 
of  burning  huts,  possibly  a mile  away. 

“They  are  attacking  a village,”  said  my 
Chinese  companion.  “No  doubt  they  saw  our 
soldiers  and  waited  till  w'e  got  by.” 

“Can  we  do  nothing.^”  I asked. 

“No.  We  ourselves  may  be  attacked  higher 
up.  Why  should  we  risk  our  heads  for  theirs.^ 
We  may  have  need  of  them  before  we  reach 
the  mines.” 

As  this  w'as  incontrovertible  logic  I said 
no  more.  I had  been  too  long  in  China  to 
want  to  interfere  with  business  not  ostensibly 
my  owTi.  But  I could  not  beat  back  a wave 
of  pity  for  the  defenceless  villagers.  Poor 
people!  They  had  done  nobody  harm.  But 
because  the  government  had  not  paid  the 
army,  some  big  fat  oflBcial  having  appropriated 
the  funds  set  aside  for  that  purpose,  the  soldiers 
had  taken  their  w'elfare  into  their  own  hands, 
absconded  with  rifles  and  ammunition,  and 
begun  to  exemplify  that  well-knowTi  Western 
formula  “The  world  owes  me  a living.” 

On  my  return  to  Mengtsz  I learned  that  a 
notorious  robber  chief  had  been  captured  and 
w’as  to  be  publicly  executed  on  the  following 
Saturday.  The  city  was  tense  with  excite- 

199 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


ment.  It  became  tenser  on  Saturday  morning 
when  it  learned  that  the  chief’s  confreres  had 
scaled  the  city  walls  and  forcibly  lifted  their 
leader.  They  had  also  lifted  the  souls  of  about 
fifty  government  soldiers,  the  prison  guards, 
who  learned  to  their  sorrow  that  there  was 
not  so  much  distinction  as  excitement  in  guard- 
ing a robber  chief.  In  China  death  is  always 
exciting. 

Jarland,  the  French  military  doctor  who 
conducted  a native  hospital  in  one  of  the  near- 
by fields,  was  always  asking  me  down  to  see 
the  machinery  of  a story.  And  in  and  about 
Mengtsz  the  most  exciting  stories  had  to  do  with 
the  robbers.  Perhaps  it  was  only  a local  thief 
who  had  climbed  into  Jarland’s  compound 
and  climbed  out  again,  guarding  his  exit  with 
a knife  bound  to  a bamboo  pole.  In  the  dark- 
ness it  would  not  be  pleasant  to  impale  one- 
self on  a knife  at  a hopeless  distance  from  an 
adversary.  So  Jarland  merely  took  pot  shots 
at  them  as  they  went  over  the  wall.  The 
next  day  they  came  to  him  for  treatment  of 
their  wounds. 

The  villagers  were,  of  course,  defenceless, 
and  the  pirates,  as  the  French  commissioner 
insisted  on  terming  them,  were  brutes.  It  is 
never  wise  to  offer  opposition  to  a brute;  dumb 
ones  excepted.  One  day  I saw  four  men  with 

200 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  iiiiiscular  portions  of  their  backs  fright- 
fully burned.  A handful  of  roving  pirates  had 
attacked  their  village,  encountering  a stout 
resistance.  When  the  robbers  finally  subdued 
them,  they  unsheathed  their  cavalry  sabers, 
relics  of  the  elder  von  Moltke’s  army,  and 
slashed  the  backs  of  the  ill-fated  countrymen. 
Then  they  poured  kerosene  oil  into  the  cuts 
and  applied  the  torch.  The  victims  of  this 
barbarous  treatment  did  not  die.  Three  of 
them  recovered  and  went  back  to  the  soil. 
The  fourth  went  back  to  the  soil  too;  but  in  a 
figurative  sense.  Losing  the  use  of  his  arms, 
he  went  a-begging. 

But  it  was  by  no  means  robbers,  robbers, 
all  the  way.  There  was  much  else  to  divert 
my  attention.  A sort  of  bund  skirts  the  lotus 
lake,  and  here  a multitude  of  merchants  thrive, 
their  families  sprawling  on  the  flagstone  road 
in  front  of  the  shops.  One  day,  as  I was 
walking  by,  I saw  a pretty  child  of  six  or 
seven  years  having  her  feet  bound  for  the 
first  time.  I had  always  imagined  that  the 
feet  were  bound  from  infancy,  but  later  learned 
that  the  legs  are  permitted  to  attain  a fair 
strength  before  being  thus  outraged.  The 
child  had  started  to  whimper.  No  wonder! 
Her  little  toe  was  pointing  toward  her  heel. 
It  would  not  reach  there  for  a number  of 

201 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


years.  But  there  is  nothing  like  a strong  and 
early  start.  The  little  girl  whimpered  and 
then  her  mother,  noticing  my  interest,  said  to 
her,  “Don’t  cry.  There’s  a foreigner  looking 
at  you.  You  don’t  want  him  to  see  you 
cry.  ” Instantly  the  incipient  woman  dried  her 
tears  and  smiled  through  them,  though  she 
could  not  help  twisting  her  mouth,  for  there 
were  no  slack  places  in  the  bandages. 

Why  do  they  do  this?  I have  asked  many 
questions  in  China,  and  I have  tried  to  answ’er 
them.  The  natives  can  only  counter  with 
the  timeworn  phrase,  “Fw  fa-tzu — it  is  the 
custom.  ” Or  else  they  give  you  facetious 
reasons  which  are  more  humorous  than  true. 
On  the  other  hand  I suppose  it  is  not  alto- 
gether unsignificant  that  the  sages,  when  they 
devised  an  ideograph  meaning  talkativeness  or 
loquacity,  should  have  simply  written  the 
primitive  symbol  for  woman  thrice. 

I came  near  shooting  a native  farmer  once. 
I was  out  for  wild  pigeon,  and  on  my  way 
back  heard  an  unearthly  screaming  over  a 
kao-liang  fence.  A man  was  beating  his  wife. 
I stood  the  affair  as  long  as  I could  before 
jumping  the  fence  and  pointing  my  gun  at 
him.  I was  so  indignant  that  I actually  pulled 
one  of  the  triggers.  But  the  shell  w^as  empty 
and  I had  not  ejected  it.  So  I merely  clubbed 

202 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


him  over  the  shoulders  until  he  desisted. 
“She  talks  too  much,”  he  said.  He  was  quite 
right.  Her  tongue  followed  me  down  the  road. 

When  the  moon  came  full  and  the  Tibetan 
cranes  flapped  in  solitary  grandeur  above  the 
lesser  clouds,  the  Chinese  commenced  one  of 
their  quaintest  festivals.  Huge  yellow  cakes 
as  large  as  drumheads  were  baked  and  eaten. 
A variety  of  lesser  things,  all  of  them  edible, 
banked  the  shop  fronts,  so  that  as  I walked 
along  I was  nearly  overcome  with  rich  narcotic 
odors.  Little  knots  of  natives  stood  in  the 
open  streets,  beneath  the  dimmed  blue  of  the 
sky,  gazing  wistfully  at  the  yellow  moon  and 
silently  munching  their  cakes.  The  mellow 
harvest  moon  is  the  giver  of  all  good  gifts,  for 
in  China  nothing  is  so  valuable  as  food. 

But  at  this  particular  time  nature  had 
decreed  that  the  earth  should  cast  a shadow 
on  its  satellite.  Their  beloved  moon  was  in 
imminence  of  being  swallowed  by  the  black 
dragon  of  the  skies.  So  the  whole  countryside 
banded  together  and  went  into  the  fields, 
armed  only  wdth  kettles  and  pots  and  drums, 
and  sticks  with  which  to  beat  them.  All  night 
long  they  clamored  noisily.  For  a few  mo- 
ments it  actually  seemed  as  though  the  black 
dragon  would  accomplish  his  execrable  purpose. 
But  in  the  littler  hours  of  the  morning  he 

203 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


began  to  give  way.  When  they  saw  they  had 
him  on  the  run,  the  farmers  beat  their  kettles 
more  vigorously  than  ever.  And  as  eventually 
they  succeeded,  they  became  more  convinced 
than  ever  of  their  prow’ess.  Thus  is  supersti- 
tion born. 

My  writer’s  wife  who  took  opium  to  relieve 
the  rack  of  childbirth  died  suddenly  one  morn- 
ing. I went  into  the  home  to  see  what  I could 
do.  The  husband  and  father  was  wringing  his 
hands  in  despondency.  It  was  not  so  much 
sorrow  as  the  spirit  of  hopelessness  that 
dominated  his  soul.  A boy  of  twelve  stood 
staring  wide-eyed  beside  the  bier.  Two  little 
girls  prattled  noisily  on  the  floor.  Three 
native  priests  occupied  the  center  of  the  room. 
One  beat  a drum  with  monotonous  precision. 
Another  burnt  pieces  of  paper  with  words  of 
intercession  written  on  them.  He  lighted  the 
second  from  the  first,  and  so  on.  The  third 
twirled  a Tibetan  prayer  wheel  and  accom- 
panied the  whine  of  the  inter-revolving  discs 
with  a pagan  chant.  But  the  oppression  of 
sorrow  did  not  pass  from  that  house. 

I could  only  place  my  hand  on  my  writer’s 
arm  and  murmur,  “K’o  lien,  ¥o  lien — what 
a pity.”  Then  I turned  incompetently  away. 

I don’t  know  who  was  at  fault,  Pak-koi  or 
I.  Perhaps  I should  have  sought  her  out  in 

204 


«Rori-  OK  urn.K  foi.k  a tihktan  i-kaykh  wiikki. 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


her  home  near  the  little  south  gate.  1 must 
confess  to  having  walked  often  in  the  quiet 
street  and  to  having  lingered  an  absurd^ly  long 
while  by  the  big  bronze  bell.  I even  went  so 
far  as  to  tempt  a couple  of  boys  aside  with  a 
handful  of  coppers,  but  Pak-koi  signified 
nothing  to  them.  I had  been  so  charmed  by 
her  that  evening  in  the  gardens  that  I foolishly 
omitted  to  be  pertinent.  I had  done  the  same 
thing  before  in  a different  way.  Often,  while 
hunting  in  the  jungle,  I happened  on  flowers 
of  extravagant  beauty,  thinking  to  claim  them 
on  my  way  out.  But  invariably  they  evaded  a 
second  glance.  The  same  is  true  of  thoughts. 
They  flit  away  seldom  to  return.  When  they 
do,  it  is  owing  to  the  kindliness  of  the  gods. 
And  the  gods  were  kind  to  me. 

It  was  the  week  before  Christmas  that  my 
Chinese  clerk  announced  a man  with  a personal 
message.  The  man,  a decrepit  old  fellow  of 
exquisite  manners,  whose  faltering  limbs  gave 
the  appearance  of  obsequiousness,  carried  the 
message  both  in  his  head  and  on  a card  in  a 
dainty  red  envelope.  The  card  was  for  court- 
esy’s sake,  and  a tribute  to  my  understanding 
of  the  written  tongue.  The  old  man  put  on  a 
pair  of  square-rimmed  spectacles  and  read  it 
out  to  me  in  a paternal  voice.  The  gist  of 
what  he  read  was  this:  “Li  Li  Fang  begs  that 

205 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  Honorable  Sir  will  deign  to  adorn  her  poor 
house  on  Christmas  day.  She  is  not  a Chris- 
tian but  she  thinks  many  of  their  customs 
beautiful,  and  among  them  none  more  charm- 
ing than  the  Christmas  tree.  Will  the  Honor- 
able Sir  be  so  good  as  to  lend  local  color  to  the 
festivities?  The  children  will  adore  him  and 
have  promised  not  to  be  frightened.  It  is  at 
four  o’clock,  but  the  Honorable  Sir  may  come 
earlier.  ” 

“Pak-koi?”  I questioned  as  composedly  as 
the  occasion  warranted. 

“A-a-a-ah,  Pak-koi,  Pak-koi,”  returned  the 
old  man  with  startling  celerity. 

Pak-koi  must  have  been  a term  of  endear- 
ment some  one  had  given  her.  The  sounds 
composing  it  are  distinctly  southern  Chinese, 
so  I have  no  inkling  of  its  meaning.  Con- 
sidering Pak-koi  herself,  Pak-koi  might  well 
have  been  a very  lavish  adjective. 

I gave  the  old  man  a ten-dollar  gold  piece 
with  which  to  buy  sweetmeats  and  candies  for 
the  children.  It  took  me  nearly  twenty 
minutes  to  press  it  into  his  palm.  At  first  he 
thought  it  a tip  of  which  I did  not  know  the 
value.  But  in  the  end  his  anaemic  fingers 
closed  over  the  coin  and  he  tottered  into  the 
street. 

Three  o’clock  of  Christmas  afternoon  found 
206 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


the  old  man  waiting  outside  my  door  to  con- 
duct me  to  my  hostess.  In  twenty  minutes 
we  were  standing  in  front  of  the  devil  screen 
of  a quaint  little  house  in  the  shadow  of  a 
Buddhist  temple.  I presume  the  bell  in  the 
quiet  street  was  a sort  of  outlying  sign  of 
religiousness.  Circumventing  the  devil  screen, 
we  entered  a tiny  courtyard  where  a bevy  of 
little  girls  were  throwing  colored  paper  butter- 
flies into  the  air  and  catching  them  as  they 
floated  down  again.  Involuntarily  I paused 
to  see  the  sheer  beauty  of  the  little  women. 
Up  and  down  they  danced  like  a flow’er  garden 
in  motion.  Then  one  by  one  they  caught 
sight  of  me,  and  the  butterflies  fluttered  dowm 
unheeded.  An  older  girl  sped  into  the  house, 
crying  in  a voice  that  rippled,  “K’o  jen  lai 
lo — the  guest  has  come.”  In  another  moment 
Pak-koi  herself  was  welcoming  me. 

It  was  the  first  time  I had  really  had  a look 
at  her.  She  was  garmented  in  a dark  silk  of 
w^hich  the  pattern  was  a chrysanthemum  and 
the  color  blue.  Her  coat,  a sort  of  jacket 
and  waist  combined,  was  short,  though  the 
sleeves  were  long,  terminating  in  peaks  that 
ran  over  her  fingers.  She  was  wearing  a blue 
skirt  of  the  same  material  as  her  coat,  only 
over  this  a black  lace  overskirt  was  worn  so 
that  the  color  shone  through  it  like  wdstaria 

207 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


seen  through  a latticework.  Champagne  satin 
slippers,  of  which  only  the  points  were  visible, 
adorned  her  feet.  The  collar  of  her  coat 
reached  nearly  to  her  chin  and  the  effect  of 
the  blue  of  the  silk,  the  black  of  her  hair,  and 
the  rose-tint  of  her  complexion  as  they  mingled 
in  the  vicinity  of  her  eyes  is  quite  indescribable. 

I don’t  think  I have  ever  seen  a Chinese 
woman  with  features  so  pronouncedly  Oc- 
cidental as  Pak-koi’s.  Instead  of  wearing  her 
raven  hair  parted  in  the  middle  she  wore  it 
parted  considerably  on  one  side  and  fluffed  up 
on  top  so  that  she  seemed  taller  than  she 
really  was.  Her  beauty  w^as  by  no  means 
fragile,  like  that  of  so  many  Chinese  ladies  of 
the  better  class,  but  rather  immanent  as  if  she 
had  never  taken  thought  of  her  personal  ap- 
pearance but  radiated  loveliness  instinctively. 
Her  cheeks  lay  under  blue-black  eyes  like  two 
inverted  rose  petals.  Fairer  than  any  jungle 
flower,  how  nearly  I had  missed  thee! 

The  Christmas  tree  was  set  on  the  k'ang, 
or  dais,  of  the  living  room.  My  ten-dollar 
gold  piece,  transformed  into  a sugared  menag- 
erie, lay  on  a square  piece  of  yellow  silk  about 
the  base  of  it.  The  branches  of  the  little  con- 
ifer supported  tiny  beggars  and  tradesmen 
done  in  clay  and  dressed  like  grown-ups;  also 
priests  with  real  hairs  for  whiskers  and  rosaries 

208 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


of  colored  glass.  There  was  a storybook  for 
every  one  and  an  etched  silver  incense  burner 
for  me.  The  children  played  games  not  wholly 
unlike  our  own.  When  Pak-koi  asked  me  to 
contribute  one  I suggested  Drop  the  Handker- 
chief, which  the  little  folk  seemed  to  like  im- 
mensely. 

Afterwards,  with  the  help  of  my  hostess  as 
interpreter,  I told  them  something  of  the 
meaning  of  Christmas.  And  then  they  all 
ran  home  in  the  twilight. 

Besides  beautiful  silken  scrolls  representing 
old  ancestral  wars,  the  living-room  walls  were 
hung  with  pieces  of  kussa  tapestry.  The 
floor  was  partially  covered  with  a gray  camel’s- 
hair  rug  with  a dragon  in  blue  in  the  center. 
In  a corner,  on  a rostral-like  teak  column, 
sat  a Buddha  in  gold.  Beneath  the  beneficent 
repose  of  the  Buddha’s  eyes  were  a table  and 
two  chairs.  Here  Pak-koi  and  I sat  ourselves 
down,  while  a serving  maid  set  a porcelain 
teapot  and  two  dainty  cups  between  us. 

“Why  is  it  that  I am  so  content.^”  I asked 
her,  commencing  the  conversation. 

“Perhaps  it  is  the  peacefulness  of  Christ- 
mas,” she  answered,  feigning  solemnity. 

“No,”  I said,  “it  is  not  that.” 

“Then  what.^”  she  queried,  looking  up  at 
me  with  rich  interest  flushing  her  satiny  throat. 

209 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“It  is  the  feeling  that  I am  akin  to  you, 
to  your  people,  instead  of  just  a barbarian 
from  over  the  widest  sea.” 

“I  have  not  felt  that  way  before,  O West- 
erner.” 

“Then  you,  too,  are  experiencing  it,  Pak- 
koi.^” 

“I  think  it  because  spiritually  you  and  I 
are  so  childlike.  What  did  the  great  teacher 
write?  ‘The  child’s  heart  and  the  man’s  mind, 
poetry  and  philosophy:  this  is  God.’” 

The  ceiling  over  our  heads  was  painted  in 
blue  and  gold  and  purple.  The  house  had 
manifestly  once  been  part  of  a temple.  A 
lantern  of  multi-colored  silks  depended  from 
one  of  the  painted  beams,  shedding  its  soft 
light  like  a sort  of  heavenly  benediction  over 
us.  I thought  of  everything  in  the  world  to 
say,  but  felt  that  all  had  been  said.  The  at- 
mosphere of  China,  like  lethe,  crept  almost 
insidiously  into  my  blood;  and  we  sat  there 
like  figures  in  one  of  the  tapestries  on  the 
wall,  she  quaintly  resigned,  and  I oppressed 
with  the  weight  of  her  loveliness. 


210 


CHAPTER  XIV 


Ragot,  the  station  master  at  Pishihchai, 
and  I early  struck  up  a friendship.  lie  was 
an  inveterate  sportsman  with  a correspond- 
ing imagination.  In  other  ways  he  was  quite 
human.  He  liked  good  wines  and  crisp  tobacco. 
Papillon,  or  Butterfly,  attested  the  connois- 
seur in  women.  I had  many  times  to  thank 
heaven  for  Papillon.  Mengtsz  grew  unbear- 
able in  moments.  My  home  was  like  a castle 
set  on  the  edge  of  the  world.  The  days  were 
long  and  the  evenings  eternity.  When  I felt 
like  drinking  myself  to  death,  as  a brilliant 
Englishman  had  done  before  me,  I saddled 
my  pony  and  clattered  over  to  Pishihchai. 
The  Flea-Infested-Spot  was  ugly  and  sat  on 
the  bare  top  of  a hill  like  a wart  on  a bald- 
headed  man’s  pate. 

But  I never  tired  of  Ragot’s  tales  of  the  hunt. 
And  then  Papillon  was  there  to  serve  me, 
always  flitting  about,  ever  smiling  and  never 
provoked;  not  even  when  Ragot  got  stupidly 
drunk  and  ran  about  on  all  fours  like  a pig. 
On  Sunday  mornings  we  took  our  guns  and 

211 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


Ragot’s  dog  and  liitched  ourselves  to  the  rear 
of  the  Yunnanfu  express.  I say  hitched  our- 
selves, because  that  is  literally  what  we  did. 
Ragot  tied  a rope  to  his  lorry  and  passed  the 
other  end  through  an  iron  ring  near  the  coupling 
joint.  To  keep  the  lorrj'^  from  running  under 
the  coach  we  planted  our  feet  against  the 
edge  of  the  platform.  As  children  we  all  have 
accomplished  something  similar  when  we  fas- 
tened our  sleds  to  the  back  of  a pung  and  then 
slipped  the  rope  when  we  reached  our  destina- 
tion. It  was  a wild  ride  down  the  mountain 
side  and  up  the  farther  hills.  Going  down,  we 
made  excessive  speed,  like  a coal  train  running 
away.  Climbing,  when  the  engine  made  a 
sudden  burst,  we  were  nearly  pulled  from  our 
seats.  Pateau,  the  dog,  w’ho  had  done  this 
many  times  before,  slumbered  between  us. 

When  we  reached  a point  opposite  the  hill  on 
which  we  purposed  to  hunt,  Ragot  slipped 
the  rope.  But  he  had  tied  an  extra  large  knot 
in  the  end  of  it  to  prevent  fraying,  and  this 
caught  in  the  ring.  Against  our  wills  W'e  sped 
merrily  on.  Some  moments  elapsed  before 
Ragot  had  the  foresight  to  bend  down  and 
cautiously  pull  hand  over  hand  on  the  rope, 
as  one  pulls  in  an  anchor.  Perhaps  he  had 
pulled  a half  of  the  rope  in  when  the  knot 
slipped  clear,  and  he  bounded  back  like  a 

212 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


rubber  ball,  hitting  the  bench  with  such  force 
that  it  went  over  like  falling  lead.  Fortunately 
it  had  been  set  at  the  very  front  edge  of  tlie 
lorry.  We  hung  on  to  the  bench  and  gravity 
did  the  rest.  When  we  finally  came  to  a stop 
we  looked  whitely  into  each  other’s  eyes. 

“God,”  said  Ragot.  It  was  the  English 
word  he  used  oftenest. 

“Ragot,  this  is  no  time  for  profanity,”  I 
countered. 

“E/i  Men,""  he  returned,  with  an  uncom- 
prehending look. 

“Well,  we  won’t  pray  either,”  I answered, 
picking  up  my  traps. 

In  the  \dllage  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  Ragot 
sought  out  a native  acquaintance  of  his  who 
had  charge  of  a temple  a little  higher  up.  We 
gave  our  bags  and  food  into  the  hands  of  this 
fellow'  who,  while  we  hunted,  was  to  clean 
the  temple  and  prepare  us  a meal.  Dogs  bayed 
us  on  all  sides.  Bright-looking  children  ran 
after  us  as  w’e  strode  down  the  narrow'  streets. 
Fresh-skinned  women  hung  their  heads,  think- 
ing thus  to  gain  the  approval  of  their  mates  w ho 
kept  a stolid  demeanor.  A few  of  them  cov- 
ertly smiled  at  me,  and  then  broke  into  foolish 
laughter  w'hen  they  w'ere  safely  by.  Old  women, 
leaning  on  crooked  sticks,  stared  at  us  through 
bleared  lids.  I heard  their  toothless  munching 

213 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


lips  mumble  ^"Hsi  kuo  jen — Western  men” 
as  we  passed  by. 

The  mountain  on  which  we  hunted  was 
rocky  and  precipitous,  and  covered  with  thick 
brush  and  the  tenacious  mountain  pine.  Ragot 
carried  a machete-like  knife  with  which  he 
hacked  a passage.  I had  loaded  my  gun  with 
two  shells,  one  for  pheasant,  the  other  for  ! 
panther.  There  was  no  way  of  knowing  which 
one  I should  have  need  of  first.  Below^  us  i 
stretched  the  plains,  the  railway  cleaving  them 
wdth  its  glittering  steel. 

Finally  Pateau  put  up  a golden  pheasant. 

It  whished  off  like  a shot.  Ragot,  who  had 
been  expecting  a find,  fired  on  the  instant. 

It  did  not  seem  possible  that  he  could  have 
been  quick  enough  for  the  bird.  But  a search 
proved  otherwise.  The  fine  shot  had  almost 
plucked  this  prettiest  bird  of  the  China  w'oods. 
After  striking  two  speckled  grouse  and  a w^ood- 
cock  we  came  to  the  top  of  the  mountain. 
Large  black  bow'lders  were  everywhere  in  pro- 
fusion. A table  of  green  grazing  land  lay  a 
little  to  one  side.  On  the  edge  of  it  flourished 
a clump  of  acacia  trees.  I thought  this  a likely 
spot  for  a rest. 

After  photographing  me  holding  the  golden 
pheasant  Ragot  turned  his  attention  to  the 
rocks.  I noticed  him  watching  a large  flat 

214 


CHINESE  I.ANDSl'APE  FROM  A MOUNTAIN  TOP 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


bowlder  with  narrowed  eyes,  but  then  Ragot 
was  always  narrowing  his  eyes.  It  w^as  not 
until  he  grasped  me  tightly  by  the  arm  and 
drew  me  beside  him  that  I recovered  my  usual 
faculties. 

“Can  you  make  him  out?”  he  asked. 

“Make  what  out?”  I returned  softly. 

“Z-c  tigre”  he  whispered,  between  nearly 
closed  lips. 

“There  are  no  tigers  here,”  I replied  anx- 
iously. 

“ Une  panthere  done”  he  answered,  with  a 
gesture  of  impatience. 

“A  panther!”  I ejaculated,  raking  the  top 
of  the  bowlder  with  my  eyes. 

“Watch  carefully  now,”  cautioned  Ragot,  as 
he  sighted,  resting  on  the  crook  of  his  left  arm. 

I could  make  nothing  out  but  the  irregular 
top  of  the  rock  until  the  roar  of  the  shotgun 
burst  on  my  ears.  In  the  same  instant  I saw 
a lithe  form  whip  into  the  air,  and  bound  with 
a whining  shriek  over  the  brink  of  the  moun- 
tain. I had  barely  been  able  to  make  out  a red 
streak  between  the  panther’s  ears.  It  all  flashed 
before  me  like  a cinematograph  exposure. 

Ragot  was  cursing  softly  in  liquid  French. 

“You  grazed  him,”  I proffered. 

But  still  the  French  flowed  in  voluble  pro- 
fusion. After  a little,  when  the  air  was  cleared 

215 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


of  smoke  and  language,  we  made  our  way 
down  to  the  temple.  Our  man  w^as  there. 
He  had  laid  out  a white  table  cover  in  front 
of  the  sitting  gods.  A quart  of  pinard  stood 
like  a beacon  of  hope  beside  each  plate.  The 
gods  looked  down  on  us  disdainfully  as  we 
ate.  Not  so  the  rabble  which  hovered  out- 
side the  door.  It  is  pleasant  to  watch  humans 
enjoy  food  that  ordinarily  one  would  throw  to 
dogs.  We  had  brought  a prodigality  of  food 
and  we  carried  none  back.  Friendship  is  an 
elastic  principle  to  be  nourished  in  devious 
ways.  This  village  became  our  friend. 

Our  ponies  had  been  led  out  to  us,  so  we 
rode  them  back,  leaving  the  lorry  to  be  picked 
up  by  a returning  freight.  About  halfway 
back  to  Pishihchai  a herd  of  wild  ponies  got 
wind  of  us  and  came  racing  up,  to  attack,  as 
we  thought,  our  stallions.  But  the  beautiful 
beasts  were  only  evincing  curiosity.  One  of 
them  did  come  near  my  dappled  gray  as  if  to 
bite  him.  I drew  my  revolver,  prepared  for 
the  worst,  for  it  would  never  do  to  be  thrown 
among  them.  There  was  much  snorting  and 
rearing,  and  I had  to  thank  heaven  I was 
hard  to  the  saddle.  In  the  end  they  dashed 
off  the  way  they  had  come,  leaving  us  envious 
of  their  speed. 

Some  eight  miles  to  the  north  of  Pishihchai 
216 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


we  entered  the  Valley  of  The  Fragrant  Springs. 
It  was  an  oval  plot  of  green  surrounded  by 
wooded  hills,  with  occasional  abandoned  tem- 
ples spotting  the  slopes  with  their  green  and 
yellow  roofs.  A stream  ran  through  the  cen- 
ter of  the  valley,  being  the  only  sign  of  move- 
ment visible.  A fleckless  sky  overarched  the 
hills  and  I felt  like  Rasselas,  though  at  the 
moment  I doubted  if  I should  ever  want  to 
escape,  so  utterly  entrancing  was  this  per- 
fect cameo  of  nature. 

I had  noticed  Ragot  sweeping  the  verdant 
amphitheater  with  his  binoculars,  but  thought 
nothing  particular  of  it  until  I hear  him  ex- 
claim with  suppressed  excitement,  “Nom  de 
DieUy  elles  sont  venues.” 

“Who  are  come.^”  I questioned,  dropping 
into  the  idiom  of  his  tongue. 

“ Les  femmes  steriles”  he  replied,  his  power- 
ful frame  a-quiver. 

“Barren  women!”  I cried,  following  the 
line  of  his  glasses  with  popping  eyes. 

“3/ais  oui”  he  returned.  “They  come 
down  from  the  hills  each  year  during  the  Fes- 
tival to  bare  their  bosoms  to  the  moon.  I 
am  ignorant  of  the  result.  Only  I know  men 
are  not  allowed.” 

“You  mean  to  say  no  men  accompany 
them.^” 


217 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Just  that.” 

“And  how  long  do  they  stay.^” 

“Oh,  from  one  new  moon  to  the  next.  The 
real  transformation  takes  place  between  moons 
in  the  dark.  When  they  return  to  the  vil- 
lages they  are  nearly  savage,  and  their  hus- 
bands have  been  known  to  flee  them.” 

“Do  we  pass  near  them.?”  I questioned, 
involuntarily  loosening  my  pistol  in  its  holster. 

“Do  we  pass  near  them!  Nom  de  Dieu, 
we  stay  to  watch.  You  are  not  afraid?” 

“Watch  what?”  I queried,  ignoring  the 
latter  thrust. 

“The  Moon  Dance,”  Ragot  replied,  slip- 
ping down  from  his  pony  and  unfastening 
a blanket  from  the  pommel. 

“It  is  two  hours  to  dark,”  he  went  on.  “We 
had  best  not  ride  farther  into  the  valley.  We 
don’t  want  them  to  see  us.  When  the  moon 
gets  up  we’ll  lead  the  ponies  to  the  edge  of 
the  wood;  then  we  can  make  our  way  up  the 
hill  on  foot.” 

There  was  something  so  altogether  wild  and 
fantastic  in  the  idea  that  I did  not  see  how 
Ragot  could  take  it  so  lightly.  Nor  did  he 
sleep.  He  merely  rolled  his  blanket  into  a 
pillow  and  lay  on  liis  back,  his  eyes  wide  open 
and  staring  into  the  ever  deepening  blue. 
For  want  of  a better  occupation  I put  fresh 

218 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 

cartridges  in  my  pistol.  “Wild  horses  in  the 
afternoon,  wild  women  in  the  evening!  What 
next.^”  I thought,  reaching  for  Ragot’s  binoc- 
ulars with  my  unemployed  hand. 

The  sun  sought  Burma  in  a flare  of  red,  and 
night  ran  down  from  the  Yunnan  steppes 
like  a river  of  shadow.  Stars  appeared  by 
twos  and  threes  until  the  sky  was  a jeweled 
firmament.  After  a little  I saw  a red  glow 
steal  over  the  crest  of  the  hills.  A crimson 
indeterminate  rim  pushed  over  the  edge  of 
the  darkness,  and  then  the  jungle  moon  poured 
up  till  it  stood  clear  of  the  night.  Like  a molten 
disc  it  burned,  mounting  ever  upwards,  the 
crimson  merging  into  red,  the  red  finally  into 
yellow,  until  it  became  the  familiar  mellow 
moon  of  New  England  harvest  time.  I stood 
like  one  bewitched,  when  Ragot  plucked  my 
arm.  “Come,”  he  said  simply. 

We  led  our  ponies  along  the  shadow  of  the 
wood,  stopping  at  a point  just  below  the  tem- 
ple roofs.  Picketing  the  tired  beasts  to  sapling 
pines  we  crept  upward  like  scouts  of  an 
army.  It  needed  only  five  minutes  to  gain 
the  temple  walls.  For  a moment  our  breath- 
ing engaged  our  ears.  Then  a shuflBing  sound 
broke  on  us  through  the  stillness  of  the  wood, 
followed  by  cries  like  the  chant  of  samurai 
warriors. 

219 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


I turned  to  look  for  Ragot  and  found  him 
climbing  a tree.  Instinctively  I did  the  same, 
not  dreaming  what  this  vantage-point  would 
disclose.  Turning  my  back  against  the  trunk 
r looked  into  the  temple  courtyard,  and  for 
the  second  (or  was  it  thousandth?)  time  my 
soul  was  in  my  eyes. 

Perhaps  twenty  women  wearing  only  demi- 
skirts,  barefooted,  with  their  raven  tresses 
falling  to  naked  shoulders,  moved  in  rhythmic 
progress  over  the  flagstone  floor.  Some  were 
undeniably  young,  eighteen  or  twenty  from 
their  looks,  whose  willowy  bodies  rippled  milk- 
white  in  the  moonlight.  Others  were  mani- 
festly women  of  ripened  years,  for  their  forms 
were  no  longer  like  the  clay  of  an  hour’s  work- 
ing. Their  breasts  stood  out  firm  and  bold, 
while  their  waists  curved  outward  into  hips  of 
daring,  though  not  undelicate,  strength.  Then 
there  were  women  nearly  old,  flat-breasted  and 
bent,  whose  ungraceful  movements  simulated 
Salem  witches  in  their  heyday. 

But  all  of  them,  young  and  old,  seemed 
caught  in  the  grasp  of  some  extravagant  power. 
Every  now  and  then  they  paused  in  the  dance 
and  bared  their  untried  breasts  to  the  mounting 
moon,  striking  their  bosoms  with  their  open 
hands,  and  chanting  those  wild  mysterious 
cries  that,  though  harsh  and  raucous  to  my 

220 


SHRINE  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  FRAGRANT  SPRINGS 


T 


* c 


t 


, 4 


H 


» 4 


n 

.T,r.iJI**' 


r 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 

Western  ears,  were  not  without  an  element  of 
music. 

“I’d  give  a fortune  for  this  picture,”  I 
whispered  across  to  Ragot. 

“You  wouldn’t  live  to  enjoy  it,”  he  crypto- 
graphically answered. 

“You  don’t  mean — ” I began. 

“But  I do,”  he  said,  laying  his  fingers  to  his 
lips  with  an  ominous  “Sh.” 

We  watched  them  for  upwards  of  an  hour 
before  they  began  to  tire.  First  the  very  old 
ones  drooped  away,  and  then  the  very  young, 
leaving  the  most  virile  to  continue  the  dance 
alone.  Knowing  that  childless  foreign  women 
worshipped  the  little  mud  gods  of  Fertility  I 
could  not  be  surprised  at  the  superstition  of 
these  paragons  from  the  hills.  We  clambered 
down  from  our  perches  in  the  trees  with  all  the 
reluctance  of  persons  getting  out  of  bed  on  a 
frosty  morning.  Like  men  surfeited  with  rich 
food  we  saddled  the  ponies,  asleep  where  they 
stood,  and  rode  out  of  the  Valley  of  The 
Fragrant  Springs,  back  to  Pishihchai. 

When  the  railway  was  building,  Pishihchai 
was  not  the  deserted  flea-infested  spot  that 
it  is  now.  Money  flowed  freely,  and  men’s 
lives  were  only  worth  the  cracks  of  pistols  that 
snuffed  them  out.  Ragot  told  me  one  tale  that 
will  bear  repeating.  An  Italian  and  a Greek 

221 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


got  into  a gambling  feud.  Night  after  night 
they  sat  at  the  table  and  played,  an  admiring 
circle  of  comrades  looking  on.  The  game  was 
poker.  On  a Saturday  night  the  Italian  got 
up  from  his  chair  with  six  thousand  silver 
dollars  in  his  bags.  The  Greek  got  up  with  his 
hands  in  his  jeans.  Each  one  grasped  a stick 
of  dynamite.  That  night  when  the  Italian  was 
dreaming  of  villas  and  dark-eyed  maidens,  the 
Greek  crept  into  his  house  and  planted  the 
dynamite  under  the  bed.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, omit  to  remove  the  bags  of  silver.  The 
rest  of  the  story  is  inevitable.  The  Greeks  al- 
ways had  a genius  for  tragedy. 

When  the  rainy  season  set  in,  I was  con- 
stantly on  the  watch  for  trains  sliding  into  the 
valley.  Ninety-one  is  the  name  of  a famous 
viaduct  on  the  line.  It  was  known  to  have 
been  weakened  by  rains  of  the  previous  year. 
But  the  French  administration  was  unwilling  to 
pour  cheap  gold  into  expensive  silver.  So 
Ninety-one  gradually  crumpled,  till  one  clear 
night,  when  the  moon  had  broken  through  wet 
clouds  and  driven  them  over  the  rim  of  the 
hills,  it  gave  completely  away.  Coincidence 
will  never  cease  to  engage  men’s  minds.  The 
last  straw  was  the  midnight  freight.  It  might 
have  gotten  over  safely  had  not  the  bowels  of 
the  earth  rumbled  just  then.  I felt  my  bed 

222 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


rocking  and  dashed  onto  the  veranda  in  time 
to  liear  a sliding  roar  as  Ninety-one  and  the 
ill-fated  freight  jangled  into  the  plains. 

“Thank  heaven  there  were  onlv  natives 

V 

aboard,”  said  a Freneh  lady  the  next  afternoon 
at  tea.  I could  only  murmur  assent  to  this, 
though  the  natives’  lives  were  undoubtedly  as 
valuable  as  our  own.  But  not  in  our  opinions. 

hat  would  man  do  if  he  were  totally  depend- 
ent on  man? 

Raymond  Racine,  fine  gentleman  and  friend, 
was  the  heart  of  the  Mengtsz  colony.  lie 
was  a philosopher  whose  meditations  he  once 
summed  up  for  me  in  the  following  words.  He 
chose  them  with  the  nice  discrimination  of  a 
French  savant. 

“I  am  like  a man  part  way  up  a ladder,” 
he  said.  “I  have  no  knowledge  how  I came  so 
far.  I do  not  even  know  if  I have  come  far. 
I look  neither  up  nor  down.  I merely  keep  my 
feet  firmly  on  the  rung  and  look  about  me.  Je 
regarde  surtout  la  vie.  Above  all  I watch  life.” 

Not  far  from  Racine’s  home  was  the  Red 
Pagoda,  the  most  distinctly  oriental  touch  to 
the  Mengtsz  landscape.  A former  colleague 
used  it  as  a summer  sleeping-house  until  he 
heard  that  the  natives  were  growling  against 
what  they  considered  desecration  of  a holy 
place.  It  was  deserted  when  I climbed  the 

223 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


swaying  bamboo  ladder  to  the  upper  floor  and 
looked  out  on  vistas  of  banana  trees,  over  the 
lotus  lake  and  away  to  the  farther  hills.  But 
once  it  had  held  the  attention  of  the  country- 
side and  its  fame  is  said  to  have  reached  as  far 
as  Peking. 

In  the  olden  days,  when  the  local  lord  was 
virtually  an  emperor,  he  became  enamored  of 
one  of  the  native  princesses  from  the  hills. 
She  already  had  plighted  her  troth  secretly  to 
another,  but  her  father  turned  deaf  ears  on  her 
implorings  and  gave  her  to  the  ruler  of  the 
plains.  Her  hill  lover  followed  her  into  the 
city  and  there  obtained  a minor  position  in 
the  government,  but  such  a one  as  permitted 
him  occasional  meetings  with  his  beloved. 
Spurning  the  caresses  of  her  Mengtsz  lord  she 
sought  only  those  of  her  lover  from  the  hills. 

But  in  time  they  were  discovered,  and  the 
jealous  and  enraged  ruler  imprisoned  her  in  the 
Red  Pagoda  and  publicly  executed  her  lover  in 
the  square  opposite.  After  the  execution  he 
went  haughtily  to  see  if  now  she  would  receive 
him  with  caresses.  But  he  found  her  spirit 
flown,  united  in  death  as  in  life  with  her  lover 
from  the  hills. 

The  early  winter  season  of  1919  had  been 
especially  dry.  But  I did  not  imagine  the 

224 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


cobalt  lake  would  seek  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
for  that  reason.  About  Mengtsz  there  had 
always  been  a superstition  of  the  Unknown 
River  that  led  to  the  Everlasting  Fires  where 
the  devils  abode.  I knew  that  periodically, 
when  the  lower  regions  got  too  hot,  the  Dark 
One  Himself  sucked  water  down  to  dim  his 
unquenchable  flames.  In  my  mind  the  entire 
affair  was  only  a picturesque  story  until  the 
cobalt  lake  dwindled  to  a mere  stream  trickling 
out  of  a cavernous  hole  as  wine  drips  from  a 
barrel. 

One  of  my  outdoor  men,  who  had  been  years 
in  the  district,  had  witnessed  the  sight  before 
but  he  had  not  gone  in.  He  could  get  nobody 
to  go  with  him.  When  I mentioned  the  matter 
he  remembered  his  old  enthusiasm  and  pro- 
posed that  we  should  go  in  together.  The 
entire  native  population  of  Pishihchai  gathered 
in  the  marketplace  to  wonder  at  our  rashness. 
Children  whimpered  behind  their  mothers’ 
trousers.  The  very  dogs  stopped  barking, 
as  if  they  too  would  fain  have  had  us  stay. 
Old  men  shook  their  heads  incredulously.  This 
boded  evil  for  everyone.  For  one  morning  the 
lake  was  gone;  the  next  it  was  there  again.  It 
was  emptied  and  filled  with  the  speed  of 
light.  Who  were  we  to  mock  the  power  of 
devils.^ 


225 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“There’s  only  one  danger,”  said  Listrom,  my 
outdoor  man,  “and  that’s  that  the  river  will 
catch  us  inside.” 

“ ’Tis  our  chance,”  I returned,  as  we  made 
our  way  cautiously  down. 

The  bed  of  the  lake  was  like  a giant  amphi- 
theatre; not  muddy,  but  of  the  red  gravelly 
soil  of  the  hills.  It  was  as  if  a monstrous  shell 
had  been  detonated  there,  and  the  rains  had 
filtered  down  to  form  a little  stream.  When  we 
got  to  the  bottom  and  looked  up,  we  could  see 
only  the  sky  above  us.  It  was  w’orth  while  to 
have  gone  down  just  for  this.  The  blue  was 
deep,  like  the  color  of  Chinese  wistaria. 

I was  surprised  that  no  fish  were  lying  about. 
The  lake  abounded  in  carp  and  commoner 
kinds.  In  the  stream  a few  minnows  darted 
at  our  shadows.  Probably  the  bigger  ones  had 
gone  down  to  propitiate  the  gods  of  the  dark- 
ness. I knew  that  after  a drought  fishing  was 
abandoned.  Thus  was  another  superstition 
born. 

The  mouth  of  the  cavern  stood  straight  up 
like  a horseshoe.  It  was  black  inside,  but 
strangely  enough,  when  we  got  in,  we  could  see 
without  the  aid  of  a torch.  The  floor  was  com- 
posed of  terraced  rock,  once  slippery,  but  now 
fairly  dry,  and  carpeted  with  a mossy  fungus 
on  which  our  boots  fell  noiselessly.  The  floor 

226 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


of  the  cavern  led  up  a little  way,  and  then  it 
took  a tunnel-like  downward  course. 

I had  been  so  concerned  with  watching  my 
feet,  for  we  had  to  be  mindful  of  crevices,  that 
I did  not  at  first  notice  the  source  of  the 
cavern’s  illumination.  Choosing  a shelving  to 
sit  on,  I looked  up  at  strangely  illumined  icicles 
that  shed  an  unsteady  glow,  like  coals  on  a 
hearth.  They  were  manifestly  phosphorescent 
in  their  nature.  For  a moment  one  shone 
like  a frosted  candle;  then  the  light  went  out. 
Large  bats,  like  little  devils,  flitted  among 
them.  At  times  they  clung  to  them,  as  moths 
cling  to  a lamp.  The  sight  of  the  bats  reas- 
sured me.  If  they  lived  in  there,  the  water 
could  not  fill  the  cavern  after  all.  I did  not 
think  of  egress  through  the  top. 

By  seven  o’clock  we  had  gone  in  perhaps  a 
half  a mile,  when  Listrom  suggested  that  we 
camp  for  the  night.  Selecting  an  especially  soft 
terrace  we  settled  down,  ate  a portion  of  our 
food,  and  prepared  our  couches.  We  had  along 
food  for  seven  days.  We  expected  to  be  gone 
only  three.  After  that  time  we  were  to  be 
searched  for. 

I was  fast  asleep  when  Listrom  pinched  me 
on  the  arm.  Nor  did  he  desist.  I sat  up,  and 
still  he  was  pinching  me.  First  I looked  at  my 
arm  which  was  wet  with  blood  where  his  nails 

227 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


bit  in.  Then  I looked  at  Listrom.  My  eyes 
and  arm  only  were  awake.  The  rest  of  my 
faculties  still  slept. 

Shall  I ever  forget  Listrom’s  face?  To  write 
that  I saw  fear  stamped  in  every  feature  would 
be  to  intimate  that  I saw  nothing  else.  But  I 
saw  much  else.  I saw  a doomed  man  facing 
torture.  I saw  him  standing  beside  the  rack, 
mounting  the  gallows,  laying  his  head  on  the 
block.  I saw  his  dilated  nostrils  that  did  not 
grow  small  again.  I saw  staring  eyes  that  did 
not  blink.  I saw  his  customarily  wdne-red 
cheeks  gone  white  like  my  lime-washed  walls. 
I saw, — and  then  I heard. 

I heard  a sound  coming  from  afar.  It  was  a 
smooth  sound  like  the  lap  and  suck  of  weaves. 
It  rose  and  fell,  rose  and  fell,  beating  the  wind- 
less warmth  into  a current  of  audible  eddies. 
It  whished  like  the  wind,  whined  like  hail,  and 
soughed  like  rubbing  limbs. 

I jerked  Listrom  to  his  feet.  His  fear  had 
rendered  me  sensible.  Abandoning  everything 
but  my  gun,  I pulled  him  after  me.  I had 
thrust  his  weapon  into  his  trembling  hands. 
They  closed  on  it  as  a drowning  man’s  fingers 
close  on  the  throat  of  his  rescuer. 

Upwards  we  slipped  and  ran.  While  running 
terror  made  our  senses  dead.  It  was  only  when 
we  fell  that  the  gently  increasing  sound  reached 

228 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


after  us.  It  seemed  to  run  visibly  along  the 
walls  as  wind  waves  down  a field  of  corn.  The 
gleaming  stalactites  barred  our  flight  like  in- 
verted flames.  On,  on  we  slipped  and  ran,  ran 
and  slipped,  with  that  haunting,  horrifying, 
beautiful  sound  enveloping  us  like  a symphony 
of  death. 

We  were  near  the  top  of  the  rise.  The  de- 
pending stalactites  seemed  to  pierce  the  floor, 
like  molten  fingers.  Then  they  lifted,  lifted. 
We  were  nearly  up.  Then  Listrom  went  down 
with  a tw'isted  knee.  I bent  over  him,  implor- 
ingly. But  he  would  not  go  on.  I started.  I 
could  feel  the  air  now  beating  against  my  face 
with  little  forceful  puffs.  The  sound  rose  like  a 
forced  draft.  It  did  everything  but  roar.  It 
pulsed  wdth  inconceivable  energy. 

I lifted  Listrom  across  my  thighs,  dragging 
him  to  the  top.  There  I rested  an  instant 
before  starting  down,  down  to  light  and  life. 
But  scarcely  had  I taken  a dozen  steps  before  I 
staggered  against  the  oncoming  air.  I felt 
myself  being  beaten  down.  I fell,  Listrom 
falling  across  me.  I took  a deep  breath  and 
closed  my  lips  tightly.  I made  myself  taut  for 
the  blow. 

It  came  and  I felt  like  one  being  hammered 
against  a rock.  My  breath  went  from  me  with 
a gasp.  I swallow'ed  and  then  I breathed  again. 

229 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


I shut  my  eyes  and  lay  still.  But  the  water 
did  not  come.  The  wind  passed  and  the  sound 
vanished  like  a cloud. 

I got  up  and  dragged  Listrom  to  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern.  I stepped  out  and  looked  up. 
The  sky  was  blackened  with  birds.  It  was 
morning  but  the  sun  was  hid. 

Twelve  hours  later  the  cobalt  lake  shone 
again  in  its  exquisite  blue. 


230 


CHAPTER  XV 


Racine’s  going  was  a sort  of  prelude  to  my 
own  departure.  I knew  the  Ides  of  March 
were  fast  approaching,  that  the  big  Empress 
then  would  bear  me  to  my  own  shores.  But 
before  Racine  went  he  married  his  lady  from 
Japan.  lie  considered  it  the  only  proper 
thing  to  do.  She  had  served  him  faithfully 
for  nearly  thirty  years.  He  could  not  abandon 
her  now.  And  though  we  knew  disappoint- 
ment awaited  him  when  he  came  to  France, 
we  hadn’t  the  hearts  to  counsel  him  otherwise. 

They  were  married  in  the  French  consulate 
that  lay  just  over  the  wall  from  me.  The 
w'omen  of  the  port,  three  in  number,  all  were 
there.  The  children  came  too,  and  because  of 
the  extravagant  nature  of  the  occasion  were 
permitted  a glass  of  champagne  just  like  the 
grown-ups.  We  toasted  Raymond  Racine, 
bachelor  gentleman,  for  the  last  time,  and  then 
we  all  crowded  into  the  little  room  where 
Flayelle,  the  squinting  consul,  in  blue  with 
yellow  braid,  and  a cocked  admiral’s  hat, 
married  them. 


231 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Do  you  take  this  man  to  be  your  wedded 
wife?”  demanded  old  Flayelle,  boring  the 
little  lady  through  and  through  with  his  one 
eye. 

We  laughed  uproariously  and  bantered  the 
old  consul  for  his  mistake.  But  he  went 
imperturbably  on  to  the  end.  Then  Racine 
kissed  her,  the  consul  mopped  his  brow  with  a 
crested  handkerchief,  and  we  all  went  out  for 
another  toast.  “ Vive  Racine,  vive  la  madame, 
vive  la  France!'' 

In  the  evening  we  assembled  in  the  dining 
room  of  Fortin’s  hotel.  When  the  railway  was 
building  it  had  been  the  stage  for  many  a wild 
festivity,  and  brave  men’s  blood  had  stained 
its  knotty  boards.  We  had  a decrepit  Pathe 
phonograph  and  the  national  anthems  of 
Greece,  Italy  and  France.  To  these  w’e  danced. 
After  we  danced  we  toasted  Madame  Racine. 
The  gracious  Raymond  had  mounted  a billiard 
table  to  make  a speech.  But  emotion  over- 
came him.  So  he  danced  one  of  his  fanciful 
Algerian  figures  until  our  cheeks  were  wet 
with  champagne  tears  of  mirth. 

“I  cannot  imagine  that  I am  leaving  this 
place  forever,”  he  said,  turning  beyond  the 
lotus  lake  to  look  for  the  last  time  on  the  Red 
Pagoda  and  beside  it  the  little  white  bungalow 
that  had  been  his  home  for  twelve  long  years. 

232 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


We  put  him  on  the  train  and  watched  him, 
wet -eyed,  into  the  distance.  So  vanished  Ray- 
mond Racine. 

Pere  Goudot,  who  had  been  thirty-six  years 
among  the  tribes  and  who  got  twenty-eight 
dollars  a year  for  his  services,  drifted  down 
from  the  hills  one  day  and  looked  on  a white 
man  for  the  first  time  in  seven  years.  He 
had  a fine  sensitive  face  with  tliin  quivering 
lips  that  affected  me  like  other  people’s  tears. 
I asked  him  many  questions  about  the  natives 
in  the  hills. 

“Why  don’t  you  go  back  with  me  for  a 
couple  of  days.^’’  he  asked.  He  spoke  French 
with  a slight  hesitation,  as  if  he  were  not  sure 
of  his  grammar.  He  had  not  spoken  it  during 
those  seven  years. 

As  I was  soon  to  leave  the  district  I ac- 
cepted his  invitation  with  alacrity.  On  a 
Tuesday  morning  while  the  settlement  was  yet 
abed,  we  mounted  the  eastern  rim  of  the 
mountain  until  we  touched  a tableland.  From 
here  we  rode  twelve  miles  northeast,  pass- 
ing many  native  villages,  some  of  them  mani- 
festly harboring  nearly  savage  folk,  and  others 
like  the  towns  of  the  Chihli  plains.  On  four 
o’clock  of  a Wednesday  afternoon  we  came 
to  Hsi-kai  where  Pere  Goudot  had  fourteen 
hundred  converts. 


233 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


The  people  Pere  Goudot  ruled  with  an 
ecclesiastical  judiciousness  were  one  of  the 
numerous  Miao  tribes  of  whom  I had  heard 
much  but  seen  little.  Occasionally  they  wan- 
dered into  Mengtsz  to  barter  beaded  garments 
in  exchange  for  iron  implements.  Their  women 
were  noted  for  their  complexions  and  for  their 
eyes,  which  last  were  not  utterly  black  like 
those  of  the  average  Chinese,  but  slightly 
pigmented  with  brown.  Nor  were  their  faces 
so  flat  nor  their  noses  so  spatulate.  Their  men 
excelled  in  archery  and  their  women  in  weav- 
ing. Their  little  girls  did  not  wear  lily  feet; 
on  the  contrary  the  Miaos  struck  me  as  being 
super-natural. 

They  were  interested  in  any  friend  of  Pere 
Goudot’s,  and  they  showed  this  by  plying  me 
with  innumerable  pertinent  questions.  Was  I 
married.^  What  was  my  age.^  How  much 
salary  did  I receive?  Did  the  color  in  my  eyes 
burn?  How  many  sons  did  I want?  If  I had 
six,  what  would  I do  with  them?  And  so  on, 
until  Pere  Goudot  came  and  rescued  me. 

The  French  Father  told  me  he  had  been 
with  this  tribe  twelve  years  when,  one  day,  he 
conceived  the  notion  of  photographing  some  of 
the  chiefer  patriarchs.  But  he  was  unable  to 
accomplish  this  because  he  could  not  explain 
to  their  satisfaction  how  it  was  possible  to  get 

234 


JACK  .lOllNSON  AM)  ('ll  IKK  (iKHONlMO  IX  A MKXdTSZ  (JAHDKX 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


their  likenesses  into  the  little  black  box  without 
transferring  also  a part  of  their  souls.  The 
Miao  chiefs  preferred  to  remain  spiritually 
intact. 

It  piqued  the  priest  to  think  that  with  all 
his  advantages  of  mind  and  knowledge  he  was 
still  unable  to  meet  this  childish  argument. 
He  told  me  that  three  more  years  passed  before 
he  met  their  objection.  One  evening,  while 
turning  over  affectionately  the  picture  of  his 
old  mother  and  father,  he  found  himself  nearly 
inexplicably  saying,  “Fancy  me  destroying 
your  souls,  ma  mere  et  mon  pere,  just  to  obtain 
your  pictures.”  And  then  in  a flash  the  light 
burst  on  him. 

He  carried  the  picture  to  the  chief  men  of 
the  tribe,  and  said,  “Can  you  imagine  me, 
your  spiritual  mediator  and  good  friend,  being 
so  unfilial  as  to  destroy  the  souls  of  my  mother 
and  my  father.^” 

The  chiefs  deliberated  among  themselves  for 
a moment.  Then,  without  further  ado,  they 
went  about  making  preparations  for  the  pic- 
ture. The  spiritual  content  of  Pere  Goudot’s 
argument  had  won  them. 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day  an  Indian 
fakir  from  Khasgar  wandered  into  the  village. 
It  seems  he  had  a reputation  for  adroitness. 
But  neither  Pere  Goudot  nor  I paid  him 

235 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


attention  until  we  saw  some  children  with  a 
colored  poster  in  their  hands.  I was  curious 
and  went  forward  to  see  what  the  drawing 
was.  It  represented  the  fakir  sitting  within  a 
ring  of  fires  watching  a little  boy  seated  on  a 
coil  of  rope.  “Can  it  be  the  famous  rope 
trick.^”  I murmured  half  aloud. 

I told  Pere  Goudot  what  I thought  it  meant 
and  he  suggested  that  we  go  down  to  the 
market  place  that  evening. 

Five  or  six  hundred  people  must  have  been 
there,  but  we  saw  no  sign  of  the  fakir.  The 
Miaos  made  way  for  the  priest  and  me,  letting 
us  through  to  the  very  center  of  the  throng.  A 
circular  place  had  been  marked  off  wnth  little 
stones,  and  inside  these  w^ere  a number  of 
small  braziers  set  in  a circle.  In  the  midst  of 
these  last  a rope  lay  coiled  on  a red  and  blue 
carpet.  Beside  the  carpet  I saw  a tiny  black 
lacquer  seat. 

We  must  have  waited  an  hour  before  the 
murmur  of  the  throng  rose  to  an  excited  pitch. 
I had  contented  myself  with  w’atching  the 
colorful  scene  around  me.  The  women  w^ere 
adorned  in  their  brightest  clothes.  The  square 
little  beaded  handkerchief-like  hats  wnth  silver 
bells  on  the  corners  made  them  look  fantastic. 
The  weight  of  the  bells  keeps  the  handkerchief 
hat  from  blowing  away.  The  children  looked 

236 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


like  veritable  flower  gardens  on  the  march. 
What  mauves  there  were!  And  pinks,  and 
greens!  They  were  like  a race  of  Martians 
dropped  from  the  sky.  And  yet  I felt  strangely 
akin  to  them.  We  experienced  at  least  one 
emotion  in  common:  that  induced  by  the 
excitement  of  waiting  for  the  fakir. 

Finally  he  came,  clothed  like  a Persian 
prince.  lie  was  leading  an  Indian  child  of  five 
years  by  the  hand.  The  child  cowered  before 
the  sea  of  staring  eyes.  The  fakir  lifted  the 
child  and  placed  him  squarely  on  the  coil  of 
rope,  his  legs  folded  under  him,  his  hands  with 
the  palms  turned  upwards,  one  on  the  other. 
Then  the  fakir  drew  a glowing  torch  from  the 
folds  of  his  gown,  blew  on  it  until  it  burst  into 
flame,  and  lighted  the  braziers. 

A fairy  blue  smoke  curled  lazily  out,  seeming 
to  fall  upwards.  For  a moment  the  incense 
burned  like  jets  of  oil.  And  then  the  smoke 
expanded  into  clouds  that  nearly  obscured  the 
little  boy  on  the  fanciful  carpet.  I could 
barely  make  him  out  like  a blot  through  the 
blue.  The  fakir  had  taken  up  his  seat  on  the 
lacquer  bench.  The  delicious  incense  made 
our  senses  swim. 

The  next  thing  I knew  the  fakir  was  chant- 
ing in  a low  monotonous  voice,  rocking  back- 
ward and  forward,  his  arms  crossed  over  his 

237 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


breast,  and  his  face  turned  heavenwards.  He 
must  have  kept  this  up  for  fifteen  minutes 
before  I noticed  with  a start  that  the  blot  of 
blue  had  traveled  a perceptible  way  into  the 
air.  Were  my  eyes  deceiving  me?  No.  I saw 
the  child  distinctly  lifted  on  the  end  of  the 
rope,  the  latter  uncoiling  itself  upward  like  a 
curious  serpent. 

Up,  up,  the  child  went.  The  braziers 
belched  their  purple  smoke  with  redoubled 
energy.  I sat  in  the  midst  of  a purple  mist, 
seeing  and  feeling  purple.  The  rope  went  up 
with  graceful  insinuations,  the  child  barely 
swaying  on  the  end  of  it. 

Pere  Goudot  looked  at  me  and  I at  him. 
But  we  said  nothing.  We  were  speechless  with 
amazement.  The  Miaos  were  speechless  too. 
Not  a sound  was  heard  but  the  moaning  voice 
of  the  fakir.  But  I felt  the  intensity  of  the 
moment.  The  great  crowd  was  on  the  point 
of  screeching.  But  fascination  took  away  its 
breath. 

I saw  that  child  disappear  in  a cloud  of 
purple  smoke  that  lay  over  the  spot  like  a 
blanket.  The  other  end  of  the  rope  was 
barely  dangling  on  the  earth.  It  dangled  for  a 
instant,  and  then,  the  fakir  reversing  his 
intonation,  it  came  do\vn  again.  I watched  it 
coiling  itself  again  as  a hawser  coils  off  a 

238 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


wench.  It  came  down  rapidly  until  the 
upper  end  disengaged  itself  from  the  purple 
smoke. 

The  upper  end  disengaged  itself  from  the 
purple  smoke  but  it  no  longer  supported  the 
child.  Down,  down  it  came  until  it  reached  a 
point  some  five  feet  from  the  ground.  And 
there  it  paused,  swaying  as  a cobra  sways 
when  music  charms  its  ears.  I looked  up, 
trying  to  penetrate  the  purple  mist  above  me. 
It  was  like  an  opaque  sheet  of  blue  water. 
Was  the  child  there What  had  become  of 
him? 

Suddenly  the  rope  slipped  down  and  lay 
motionless  where  it  had  lain  before.  The 
fakir  gradually  ceased  rocking.  Slowly  his 
voice  died  away  to  a whisper  and  then  went 
out  altogether.  The  braziers  no  longer  emitted 
their  purple  clouds,  though  their  incense  lin- 
gered in  my  nostrils.  The  mist  quietly  cleared 
away,  revealing  the  starry  sky  above.  That 
night  Pere  Goudot  and  I and  all  the  Miaos 
sought  our  couches  with  troubled  dreams. 

“You  think  that  woman  beautiful?”  Pere 
Goudot  asked  of  me  the  following  morning. 

There  was  scarcely  need  for  me  to  answer 
him.  Admiration  was  written  plainly  on  my 
features.  The  person  occasioning  it  was  a 
Miao  woman  of  perhaps  twenty  years.  She 

239 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


was  drawing  water  from  the  village  well.  She 
balanced  the  jar  on  her  head,  her  arms  akimbo, 
and  walked  gracefully  within  ten  feet  of  us. 
She  was  beautiful.  She  had  that  matchless 
olive  complexion  so  prized  by  the  women  of 
Spain.  Dark  brown  eyes  and  blue-black  hair 
with  limbs  that  seemed  to  flow  completed  the 
picture. 

“Then  you  have  not  see  Lena?”  the  priest 
continued,  with  a look  of  incomprehension.  I 
looked  at  him  blankly,  so  he  went  on. 

“I  married  her  to  one  of  your  Pishihchai 
outdoor  men.  What  was  his  name?  Listrom?” 

“Not  Listrom!”  I replied  astoundedly. 

“Yes,  that’s  the  name, — Listrom.  Lena’s 
father  is  among  the  wealthiest  native  princes. 
Did  Listrom  choose,  he  could  become  a 
Nabob.  ” 

“Listrom  married  to  a princess!  Listrom  a 
Nabob!”  I addressed  these  ejaculations  to  no 
one  in  particular,  but  Pere  Goudot  heard 
them.  I had  always  looked  kindly  on  Listrom, 
and  especially  since  our  nearly  fateful  adven- 
ture in  the  cave.  I knew,  too,  that  he  had 
married  a native  woman.  But  I thought 
nothing  of  that.  More  responsible  men  than 
Listrom  had  acted  similarly.  But  that  he 
should  have  captured  a princess!  My  respect 
for  him  advanced  in  leaps  and  bounds. 

240 


THE  ( HARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  I bade 
Pere  (joudot  a tender  farewell.  Indubitably 
our  paths  would  never  cross  again.  But  I had 
to  leave  him.  For  in  ten  days  I was  to  quit 
Mengtsz,  perhaps  forever.  And  during  those 
ten  days,  among  other  things,  I had  business 
with  Listroni. 

I did  not  know  that  tliere  was  a little  lad  of 
twelve,  the  offspring  of  the  French  engineer 
who  had  an  eye  for  beauty  when  the  railway 
was  building.  The  child  was  named  for  his 
father,  George.  And  Listrom,  as  a part  of  the 
marriage  contract,  had  agreed  that  the  lad 
should  receive  an  education  commensurate 
w’ith  his  birth.  The  boy’s  features  were  un- 
deniably French,  but  he  had  his  mother’s, 
Lena’s,  eyes  and  her  complexion  and  her  hair, 
and  her  beautiful  radiant  spirit  which  I was 
privileged  to  glimpse  intimately  by  and  by. 

George  had  been  six  years  in  the  Xavier 
school  at  Hanoi.  He  had  completed  the 
courses  there  and  was  ready  for  something 
higher.  When  I got  back  Listrom  told  me  his 
story  and  wanted  to  know  if  I could  be 
bothered  taking  the  little  fellow  to  Shanghai.  I 
said  I must  first  see  George.  To  see  George 
was  to  see  Lena,  and  I was  fain  to  look  on  a 
princess  once  again. 

To  see  George  was  to  love  him.  Lena  met 
241 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


me  with  tremulous  downcast  eyes.  Though  it 
was  not  her  custom,  she  took  my  right  hand 
in  her  two  hands  and  pressed  it  with  unabashed 
tenderness.  She  was  not  unmindful  of  the 
favor  I had  to  bestow.  The  moment  I saw 
them,  I turned  and  smiled  to  Listrom,  convey- 
ing my  assent  to  his  proposition  with  my  eyes. 

Lena  was  wearing  a cloak  of  old  rose  when 
she  came  down  the  walk  to  meet  me,  leading 
George  by  the  hand.  There  was  something 
heavenly  about  her  face,  as  there  is  about  the 
faces  of  Angelo’s  children.  As  I reminded 
myself  of  her  story,  I thought  of  one  of 
Barrie’s  felicitous  phrasings, — “The  finest  thing 
in  the  world  is  that  a woman  can  pass  through 
anything  and  remain  pure.”  Lena  exemplified 
the  truth  of  this  as  no  one  else  I have  ever 
known. 

Finally  the  last  morning  came.  I rose  early 
and  walked  around  my  gardens  with  unfeigned 
emotion.  Had  it  been  a wet  dreary  day  I 
might  have  been  consoled.  But  I was  at  a 
loss  how  I should  live  separated  from  this 
exquisite  beauty  of  nature.  The  red  moun- 
tains gleamed  through  the  eucalyptus  trees. 
The  warm  air  pulsed  on  my  cheek  like  the 
touch  of  loving  fingers. 

My  servants  fired  off  crackers  as  I went 
down  the  path  for  the  last  time.  They  trailed 

242 


CLOAREC,  LENA,  AXO  THE  AUTHOR,  'WITH  MIMI,  CLOAREC’s  DOG 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


after  me  like  children  after  a bear  man. 
People  lined  the  edge  of  the  lotus  lake  and  did 
me  a final  obeisance.  Soldiers  presented  arms 
and  I felt  like  a king.  I smiled  at  them, 
through  wet  eyes,  then  clasped  my  hands, 
raising  them  to  my  breast  as  a parting  saluta- 
tion. Like  Racine  I turned  to  look  at  the  Red 
Pagoda,  flaring  above  the  lotus  leaves.  Then 
I passed  around  the  gray  walls  of  Mengtsz 
city  and  came  to  the  little  depot. 

My  Chinese  staff  was  there,  standing  silently 
apart  from  my  foreign  friends.  I shook  each 
one  by  the  hand,  and  then  we  shook  our  own. 
Suzanne,  my  little  French  sweetheart  of  twelve 
years,  I embraced  in  her  own  fashion.  Cloarec 
and  I walked  apart  for  a moment,  saying 
never  a word.  Should  we  meet  again?  The 
little  train  rumbled  in.  I stood  on  the  rear 
platform,  trying  to  stem  the  tears.  IMengtsz 
and  the  beloved  moving  forms,  with  white 
specks  fluttering  over  them,  faded  into  an 
indistinguishable  gray. 

At  Pishihchai,  Ragot  and  Listrom  were 
awaiting  me  with  champagne  and  sweetened 
cakes.  Lena  and  one  of  her  native  maids  were 
to  accompany  us  to  the  border  of  the  jungle. 
So  the  leave-taking  would  be  utterly  manly. 

The  jungle  train  tumbled  down  from  the 
Tibetan  steppes,  panted  as  if  to  regain  its 

243 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


breath,  and  was  off  again.  I watched  Pishih- 
chai  until  the  red  tiled  roof  of  the  station 
burned  like  a ruby  in  the  morning  sun.  I 
could  visualize  Ragot  and  Listrom  standing 
there.  Their  trinity  was  broken  forever. 

At  Yenbai,  where  the  jungle  begins,  Lena 
bade  George  farewell.  I had  imagined  them 
kissing  each  other  until  I remembered  that 
Chinese  do  not  kiss.  She  merely  laid  her  hand 
against  his  cheek,  feeling  of  his  beautiful  skin, 
so  soft  and  roseate,  like  her  own.  No  tears 
glistened  in  her  eyes.  They  simply  opened 
wide  and  would  have  been  staring,  had  not 
they  been  limpid  instead, 

Lena  got  down,  attended  by  her  maid,  w'ho 
was  only  a shade  less  handsome  than  she,  and 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  track  with  the 
feather  palms  forming  a canopy  over  her 
head.  I took  George  to  the  rear  platform  as 
the  train  pulled  slowly  out.  He  leaned  against 
the  railing,  looking  at  her  with  astonishment, 
trembling  with  the  new  emotion  risen  within 
him.  He  had  never  parted  from  anyone  he 
loved  before.  As  a child  he  had  not  known 
sorrow.  Long  after  a curve  in  the  roadbed 
shut  them  from  view,  he  stood  looking  into 
the  distance.  A little  later,  when  we  w'ere 
settled  in  our  seats,  I noticed  two  trickling 
tears. 


244 


THE  CHARM  OF  THE  MIDDLE  KINGDOM 


“Why  do  you  weep?”  I asked  him  simply. 

‘'Pour  ma  merCy’'  he  said,  cuddling  against 
my  arm. 

This  time  we  went  through  the  Baie  d’Along 
in  darkness,  coasting  up  to  Hongkong  in  a 
choppy  sea.  There  the  big  Empress  awaited 
us  with  its  palatial  grandeur.  At  Shanghai,  in 
the  Yellow  Sea,  I delivered  George  into  the 
hands  of  friends  of  his  foster  father.  The 
Empress  slid  out  of  the  turgid  waters  toward 
Japan.  In  the  morning  I thought  I saw  a line 
of  yellow  mist  at  the  end  of  the  wake.  But  in 
a moment  it  had  vanished,  and  with  it  the 
celestial  glory  of  the  Middle  Kingdom.  The 
waves  once  more  curled  with  limpid  greenness 
and  I walked  to  the  bow,  feeling  a ship’s 
length  nearer  home. 


245 


